Gathering Clouds
by ForIHaveOvercomeTheWorld
Summary: Sequel to "Hidden Knowledge". A terrible storm is heading toward Camelot and Merlin and the knights go on a quest to stop their kingdom from being destroyed. But things will get in their way and Merlin may have to pay a terrible price. Bromance. Whump.
1. Monstrous Crow

So, yeah, I know it's been a few weeks since I last posted something and I'm sorry, but I hope this will make up for it. **At last, here is the long awaited sequel to _"Hidden Knowledge and Painful Revelations"_ ! **I know it's been some months since the last story but I really wanted to write some other things before I started this, and I only wrote half of all the things I wanted to! Oh, well. Anyway, here's what you can expect in this story. **It will have Whump,** though not nearly as much as my previous story did, but don't worry I'll still hurt Merlin. **It will have Great Amounts of Bromance! No Slash whatsoever. Near reveal of something other than Merlin's magic. Unfortunately, the actual reveal will not be in this story, though, it will happen in this series. Hopefully this will have some original ideas and better writing than my first story. And this will probably be around the same length as the other story as well. **Also, you should all know that this takes place in the third season, so roughly something like three to four years since everything with the first story happened. And spoilers are for anything before the 304 because I never know what I'm going to put in here.

Warnings: There will be some violence and at least one near-death experience. Some possible mild swearing. Probably at least one creepy dude and maybe a few scary moments. Once again, no slash.

_Disclaimer: I do not own Merlin, but I tip my hat to the makers of it for creating something that I enjoy so much that I will write about it. My only profit is the joy that this gives me and the others who enjoy it. _

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><p>Gathering Clouds<p>

_Chapter 3: The Calm Before the Storm_

Merlin slowly opened his bleary and heavy eyes and gazed at the yellow light coming from the small window that lit up his room. He rolled rather clumsily out of his bed and shuffled over to the window that was more of a peephole.

He'd always loved looking out his window. Ever since he had first come to Camelot and had looked out at the awe-inspiring kingdom he had been in love with the gorgeous sight. Living all his life in Ealdor, a town of less than a hundred people, coming to a place so big with so many different and unique people and things and customs had completely amazed the young warlock. And to this day he still loved Camelot-watching.

But this morning, like the past three, his routine to always gaze down at the people below him when he woke up was ruined by the dark storm cloud.

Merlin had lived and had seen a fair few storms. Some were light and only lasted a minute or two, while others were dark and could last for several days and caused havoc and destruction.

But never before had he seen a storm cloud layer like this. In the morning Camelot's golden light would bathe Merlin's room, but this morning the light wasn't as bright and as Merlin looked out at the once bustling city his heart was only more discouraged, instead of being lifted up. Usually there would be hundreds of people he could see from his window, but now there were only a few dozen who carried on with their business as quickly as possible so that they could return to the shelter of their homes. In the courtyard directly below Merlin could see a servant girl draw water and then run as fast as she could for the nearest door.

The ominous presence in the edge of his sight drew his gaze towards the thing he hoped and wished wouldn't be there when he woke up; the thing that he feared seeing. Where he would normally see on the horizon bright blue sky and a few fluffy white clouds he now saw, just like he had seen every morning for the past week, a dark, heavy layer of clouds that stretched as far as anyone could see in the direction of Cenred's kingdom. Except that it wasn't going to pay the cruel king a visit, but rather it was heading towards Camelot.

A week ago the first black hints of the storm could be seen on the horizon, but no one had paid it any attention. It was too far away to ever reach them and would be gone in a day. However, that evening two men had been granted an audience with the king and the truth of their words had been evident by the very real fear in their voices. They lived on the southeastern edge of Cenred's kingdom and they had witnessed a town in the distance getting torn apart by a storm bigger than any one they had ever seen. Their words still rang in Merlin's ears and no doubt many others.

"_My brother and my family and I live on a flat plane, which allows us to see for miles and miles in all directions. It's not hard to see a distant town four days away from our little village and so it was easy to see its destruction. Not a week after we saw the storm far away in the sky it came upon them and from the safety of our home we watched rain falling like rocks and howling winds half tear apart that town, and they were only caught on the edge of the storm. I cannot imagine the destruction that would be unleashed should something be caught in the eye of that tempest. Half of us went out to help them while the other half ran as far away as they could. But we, my brother and I, care not for our pig of a king, but respect you as a good man and know of the thousands of innocent souls that reside in your kingdom and we had to warn you. Please, sire, this storm is not of natural occurrence. It is deadly and in its thunderous eye lightening shoots like arrows. It eats across the sky and yet when you turn the other way all you see is blue and not a single cloud. _

"_Sire, no storm of this force could last this long and come from one direction without any warning from the other. The day is bright and clear here and already you can see the black clouds of anger on your horizon. We rode straight here, only stopping to warn others, but the storm seems to be slowing down. Unless it stops before it arrives here then many of your people will perish. This is not the kind of storm that brings precious water to your crops; it is a storm that destroys all."_

Uther had not known quite what to believe about the tidings of doom that had been brought to him, but he had told Gaius to search his books to see if such a storm could be natural. Of course, Merlin and Gaius had pretty quickly concluded that if the storm did reach them then it was most definitely caused by magic.

Since that first day perhaps a dozen or so people had come to Camelot telling of the destruction the storm was causing. One man had even described to them the devastation he had seen in areas that the storm had already passed through. And now with the black clouds marring the sky there was hardly a single person who didn't believe the truth of what those people had said.

At first Uther hadn't been sure what to think and had decided to wait for some more conclusive proof. But after a few days it had become very clear that the once small spot on the horizon that was growing ever bigger was a terrible storm that didn't seem to be stopping. So Uther had sent men and patrols out in order to get a good look at the thing and the reports hadn't been very encouraging.

It was only a week later and already the clouds were starting to block out the sunlight. The clouds themselves were grey on the top, but the blackest black on the bottom. And sure enough, in the middle of the storm one could easily see shards of lightening spike down and flash within its noxious center.

Merlin doubted that there was anyone in the whole of Camelot who hadn't heard the tales the visitors had told and now everyone was afraid to so much as step outside their own door. But it wasn't just the dark clouds that had people scared, no; it was the buzz, the sparkling electricity that danced along their skin anytime they were in the open. Only the safety of the indoors seemed able to keep out the electrical current that the lightening in the distance sent towards Camelot.

People were afraid and Merlin had to admit that even he was scared. There was something unnerving about the clouds, something that made him feel slightly queasy. Every morning when he woke up the clouds would be a little worse, though; they seemed to be slowing down just a bit, but not enough.

It had been one week and Merlin had known instinctively as soon as he had looked out at the practically deserted streets of Camelot that today things would change. Something would be done about the huge storm cloud intending to destroy Camelot today, though what Merlin didn't know.

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><p>Merlin burst into Arthur's chambers with plenty of noise just as he did every morning. And just like every morning he threw open the curtains so that the bright sunlight would wake Arthur up instead of him having to be within the prince's attack range. Of course, he still would always get something thrown at him, but in Merlin's experience having a goblet ping against the back of his head was far more preferable to having the breath knocked out of him by one of Arthur's punches to his stomach. Though, sometimes they felt worth it when he saw the fog of sleepiness clear from Arthur's eyes and realization of what he had done dawn upon him. Once Arthur had even gone as far as to give Merlin a day off after he had reflexively socked him so hard in the gut that he hadn't been able to stand for a full ten minutes afterwards.<p>

Merlin knew that Arthur never meant to truly hurt him. Cause some discomfort and light pain perhaps, though, Merlin still found it and odd way of expressing friendship. But in the end, having proof that Arthur actually cared about him had been worth the agonizing pain.

That didn't mean, however, that he wasn't a little afraid and disappointed when the light from the windows wasn't bright enough to wake Arthur up on this particular morning. Sure enough, the light fell on the prince's face, but sometime in the night the dollop-head had completely buried himself under his many pillows and blankets, so the sunlight hardly affected him. Merlin wasn't sure if it was the pile of pillows on top of his pratish master or if the days were starting to get darker, but either way he wasn't happy with what he now had to do.

Merlin considered using magic to wake Arthur up, but he decided against it since Gaius would most likely kill him if he found out. Whenever any evidence of sorcery was brought to Uther's awareness Gaius would always get really freaked out and would drill into Merlin yet again that he must be _extremely _careful with his magic and must not be caught under any circumstances. But considering what had happened almost two years before with the Witch Finder Merlin supposed Gaius had a right to be worried. Merlin couldn't suppress a shudder at the thought of what Gaius had gone through at the hands of Aredian. Merlin knew that it had been his carelessness that had caused his guardian so much pain and the weight of that guilt was something that he knew he would carry for the rest of his life.

Merlin had a lot of regrets, but right now he was trying to figure out which he would regret more, letting Arthur wake up of his own accord and then having to listen to Arthur rant about how incompetent he was and probably would have to suffer through countless disgusting and humiliating chores. Or he could wake Arthur up now and quite possible suffer great pain and probably wouldn't get as much sympathy this time. In the end, though, Merlin decided to perform his job since he had a gut feeling that it was important for Arthur to be on time to everything today.

Merlin picked up a pillow and tossed it at the blanket-covered shape that barely resembled Arthur. The lump shifted but otherwise there was no change. Merlin picked up two more pillows and threw them as hard as he could at Arthur. No effect.

Merlin sighed deeply. There was nothing for it; he'd have to make physical contact because if he threw anything heavier at Arthur then the prince would no doubt kill him. Merlin leaned forward and shook Arthur as hard as he could and then jerked away and crouched down. But for all his swiftness Merlin only just barely missed getting hit by the powerful arm that flew up into the air.

"Merlin!" came Arthur's groan, but it was muffled since the prince's face was still buried deeply in his mattress.

"Time to wake up, sire," Merlin said with practiced ease as he began to pick out what his master would wear.

Arthur lifted his head up and out of the pillows to stare at his window. Merlin couldn't suppress a snort at the sight of his master's disheveled and sloppy hair.

Arthur squinted as the light hit his eyes and then scowled. "Merlin! Are you getting even _more _incompetent? It's not bright enough to be morning yet. You've woken me up for nothing." And with that Arthur's head disappeared back into the covers.

With a sigh in his voice Merlin replied, "No, sire, I haven't, it's morning."

"But it can't be!" Arthur retorted with early-morning annoyance in his voice. "I've lived in Camelot all my life and I know what the sun is like at what times of the year. I also, Merlin, know my bedroom window and I can tell you with certainty that this is not morning. Maybe an hour or two 'til morning, but _not_ time for me to wake up!" Again his head dropped onto his pillows.

"It is if there is a great big storm cloud blotting out the sun," Merlin replied slowly.

And just like that Arthur shot straight up in bed and took a long good look out his window and noticed the very thing he too had been dreading. Arthur got out of his bed and Merlin watched all the exhaustion bleed out of him as the gravity of what was heading toward Camelot fell on his shoulders. There was perhaps nothing that mattered more to Arthur than Camelot and he was being faced with something he'd never had to fight before. Nature.

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><p>"Well," asked Uther, "what's causing it Gaius?"<p>

"Sire," the old man replied, "I can't say for certain but I know it isn't the usual way of things. This storm is not being caused by any force of nature."

Merlin almost grinned as he saw Arthur straighten himself where he was standing slightly. The warlock didn't doubt that Arthur was glad it wasn't something he had no defense against. Of course, he himself already knew what Gaius was going to say and had actually been preparing some for it. But it hadn't been easy. For the past five days Arthur had been doing everything he could to ease his people's fear and that meant that Merlin had been working twice as hard.

Shortly after Arthur had eaten his breakfast and had been fully dressed a summons from the king had arrived. Arthur, the knights, the most important councilors and Gaius had been called for a meeting. And, naturally, where Arthur went Merlin went also.

Uther hadn't wasted any time asking Gaius what the source of the storm was, and Merlin just hoped that the king wouldn't freak out too much at what he heard. Then again, it's Uther.

"Well, what do you believe this threat is?" Uther asked, never one to beat around the bush.

"My lord, I believe it to be the cause of magic. No ordinary storm could last this long and create such damage," Gaius answered carefully. Merlin got the feeling that he was warily watching his words as he always did when around the Pendragons, especially Uther.

"Magic!" the king exclaimed and Merlin wanted to roll his eyes. "But who would be powerful enough to create such a storm?"

Merlin was actually a little surprised that the king had asked an important question instead of getting all angry and in his "purge" mode.

Gaius looked very grave as he answered. "Not someone, my Lord, but something. To my knowledge there is no one who wants to destroy Camelot powerful enough to do something like this." Merlin inwardly smiled at how his mentor hadn't outright lied. Merlin didn't know if he was powerful enough to do this, but if he was then at least the old man hadn't lied. "I have done some research and I have come across a device that is said to hold great power. It can grant all but the most powerful of wishes and if someone tried to use this artifact to send a never-ending and deadly storm to Camelot then we are most certainly in danger. A man by himself would not be able to keep up this kind of magic for long, but if an unfeeling object had enough power stored within it then there would be no problem. The item I found in my search is said to be able to grant wishes and I believe that it could be the cause of this storm. And if that is the case then the only way to stop it is to turn it off or destroy it."

Some of the people in the hall whispered to each other at these words, Merlin; however, kept his attention on Uther and Arthur to see what their reactions would be.

"And where is this…" Uther floundered slightly for the right word, "magical item located?"

"Sire, the only information that I have found as to its whereabouts says that it is somewhere on the other side of the Border." That caused even more whispers. "That is all I know," Gaius finished.

Merlin could see Uther visibly stiffen at the mention of the Border. Since coming to Camelot Merlin had heard the occasional rumor about what was southeast of the kingdom and why no one ever ventured there or why they were no kingdoms in that area. But he had never really heard anything substantial about it because it was apparently another one of those touchy subjects with the king. And looking at Uther now it wasn't hard to tell.

The king's features twisted slightly in anger. "There is nothing across the Border, Gaius; you of all people should know that."

Gaius looked like he wanted to sigh and Merlin didn't blame him. "There may be something ancient left over from the old times, sire. And if there's not then we shall have no way of preventing this storm from reaching us."

Uther looked like he was about to yell, but then he calmed down some and turned to gaze at his son. "Arthur, you will take a patrol of as many knights as you need and you will cross the border and find a way to stop this threat. Gaius, how long before the storm hits?" he asked of his old friend.

"About two weeks, and the eye of the storm will hit a few days after that," he answered. "But, my lord, it is possible that the knights will be unable to pass over the Border."

"And why is that?" Uther asked pompously.

"You've heard the rumors, only—" Gaius began but was interrupted by Uther.

"That's all they are, Gaius, nothing but rumors. You should know better than to take stock in them." He gazed sternly at the old man that he often forgot was his friend. "The myths of the Old Religion mean nothing now," he said with a finality that left no room for argument. Once again he addressed Arthur. "You will ride out as soon as you are ready."

Arthur bowed along with the few other knights in the room and turned and left. Merlin followed along behind him and once they were a fair distance from the throne room Arthur turned to him and said, "We leave tomorrow at first light. _Try_ not to be late this time, Merlin."

Merlin considered making some sort of joke, but he knew that there was some times where he needed to let Arthur be serious and do his thing. So he let his prince walk off to gather the rest of the knights without saying a single word, opting instead to talk with Gaius.

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><p>He entered the chambers he shared with the old man and saw that Gaius was already there and bent over some sort of potion. His guardian seemed pretty intent on whatever he was working on so Merlin went into his room and began to gather his things. After he had collected the few things he planned on bringing along he decided to break the comfortable silence and ask the questions that had been pestering him.<p>

"Gaius, what is the Border exactly?"

The old man straightened up and sighed. "Sometimes I forget that you don't know these things. As you know, during the time of the Great Purge Uther hunted all those who had even the slightest relation to magic and many tried to flee from his wrath. Most did not escape and were killed. Some of the more powerful ones like Nimueh were strong enough to hide themselves. But there were a few who weren't very powerful but managed to run far enough. They ran to the east and disappeared. When the knights and soldiers tried to follow them they were stopped by some invisible force that blocked their path. And it was the same for others. Some sorcerers who tried to take refuge in the land beyond that invisible line were stopped just like the soldiers, while other passed through with no difficulty. Many tried to leave simply because they did not wish to live in the world Uther was creating, even though they themselves didn't practice magic, and some of them were allowed to cross. The Border is an invisible wall between Camelot and some unknown land and for as long as anyone can remember only a random few are allowed to pass through it. Some believe that only the good and pure of heart may enter that strange land. Others believe that only those of a great destiny may do so. And some believe that only those with a great need of its refuge will find its shelter. How much of this rumor is true I do not know, though I _did_ see someone cross the Border a long time ago, but I do know that when Uther tried to pursue the fleeing sorcerers he was stopped."

Merlin pondered that for a moment. "So it is possible that myself and the knights will not be able to do this?" he asked.

"Yes, Merlin," Gaius answered simply.

"But what do I do? I can't just _not_ go because of a possibility!" Merlin exclaimed. "I guess I just have to cross my fingers and hope that the Border likes me." He smiled slightly.

"Somehow I think it will, Merlin, it's hard not to like you," Gaius responded and reciprocated the smile.

Merlin's face fell a little bit. "But what happens if none of us can make it across?"

Gaius sighed and his face became serious. "Then Camelot falls."

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><p>So...that's the first chapter and I hope it didn't disappoint. I tried to make it different from the first one because not only was that one about Merlin in his beginning stages, but I also was in my beginning stages of writing fanfiction. Personally, I already like this better and I definitely think that my skill has improved since the first one. But what do you guys think? Please review and tell me how much you like this story so far.<p>

So, I bet a bunch of you are wondering what happened to _"Chapter 2: The Growth" . _Well, my idea when I mentioned that "chapter" was to have something that would sum up all of the work that the actual show has done. For me, everything that comes before this story is the growth of their friendship. I felt like I couldn't just skip over the three or so years that pass by in the show, so I put that in there. But this story is chapter three in this series of mine, and I may never write a actual story for chapter two. But, if I come up with something good then I may.

And, in case any of you are under the wrong impression, you should all know that I have no plans to ever write a Merlin/Morgana fic. In my previous story I mentioned that Merlin is going to kill Morgana with his love, but what I meant by that was something completely different. It will make more sense when it comes. Also, I do think that Merlin loves Morgana, but only in a friendship way. Until the show gives me proof that Merlin cares about her in a romantic way I refuse to write anything about that.

So, thank you to everyone who's read this chapter and plans to continue reading this story. Please review.


	2. Of Reminiscing and Fears

I'm so sorry that it's been so long for this update, but I wanted to finish and post a story that I've been working on for months. Hopefully from here on out I will be able to update once a week, but no promises. I have a lot of trouble being consistent. Anyway, this chapter is a little bit of a filler, but there is still a fair amount of plot-related stuff going on. Also, if anyone is reading this who hasn't read the story that came before, you might be a little confused. On to the chapter.

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><p>As Merlin bounced around slightly in his saddle he tried not to think about everything that could go wrong with this quest. Unfortunately, Gaius hadn't made it very easy. In addition to all the worrisome information about the Border, Gaius had told him something else, something that only Merlin should know. Apparently the magical item that was creating this storm was known only as the Ancient and, much like its name implies, it is an item of old magic. And according to Gaius in order to use the device in any way one would have to pay a price.<p>

On first hearing this Merlin had thought that it was kind of silly that something that powerful would require gold, but when he heard what Gaius had to say next he was quickly sobered up.

"_It requires, Merlin," the old man said, "a very high and personal price. The price will be something that will leave an aching hole within the life of the one who summon its magic. The life of a loved one, the person's magic, his happiest memories. Whoever sent this storm to Camelot, Merlin, had to pay a terrible price to do so. And I'm afraid that in order to stop this storm another price may be asked…of you. I cannot be certain, perhaps it will be easy for you to turn it off, but I can't say for sure."_

"_What will it take from me?" Merlin asked slowly as the weight of what had just been said descended on him. _

"_I do not know, Merlin, but if it does take something from you then you will never be the same again."_

Merlin was only in his early twenties and already he had suffered much. He had been poisoned, tortured at the hands of a madman, lived in fear all his life of both himself and Uther, he had lost too many loved ones, he'd been forced on far too many occasions to watch the people he cared about suffer and be unable to help them, and, perhaps most painful of all, he had to lie every day to his best friend. Merlin did not enjoy pain, but at this point he felt like he could handle it if he had to.

No, it was not his own pain that he was worried about, but rather something that Gaius had mentioned. _The life of a loved one. _Merlin was afraid that the price would be the life of someone he cared about, and that thought was tormenting him. Physical pain he could deal with, but losing Arthur or Gaius or Gwen after all the people he had lost already would destroy him. Especially if it was Arthur. Arthur's life was _not_ a price Merlin was willing to pay.

But right now it was all speculation. He didn't know if they would be stopped at the Border, he didn't know if halting the storm would cost him, and he didn't know if that cost would something he could accept. And it was driving him nuts with worry. So Merlin did whatever he always did when something bothered him, he pushed it to the back of his mind and focused on something more immediate and important…like annoying Arthur.

"Hey, Arthur," Merlin called as he caught up with the prince's horse, "what do you think is on the other side of the Border?"

Arthur huffed in annoyance. "_Mer_lin, we're riding into the unknown, somewhere we've never been before. The very idea of the unknown is that I don't know what's there!"

"Yeah, but you can guess," Merlin replied off-handedly just to annoy him.

Arthur sighed exasperatedly. "I don't like guessing. It only wastes time and energy. There's no point in speculating about something because then one might increase his fear of it."

Merlin allowed a triumphant grin to light his face. "Oh, so you are afraid of it, are you?" he asked mockingly with a bit of condescension. Merlin saw the tiny look of horror that flashed across Arthur's face as he realized that he had set himself up for that one. And Merlin also didn't miss the tiny chuckles and smiles that his comment had earned from the other members of their group.

"No, Merlin," Arthur said condescendingly once he recovered. "I wasn't talking about myself, I was talking about _you. _If you think and speculate about it too much you're likely to worry yourself sick and I haven't the time for that right now. If you haven't forgotten, we are on a very important mission, Merlin. And I'm not about to let your idiocy get in the way of that." He smirked.

Merlin thought dimly that even though he was related to Morgana his smirk held none of the evil or eeriness to it that hers did. When Morgana smirked it was a clear sign that she was planning something bad that would most likely involve the death of someone Merlin had sworn to protect. The only things Arthur's smirks were a sign of; however, was that he was a big prat.

Merlin just smiled to himself. "No, I'm pretty sure that you're scared, Arthur."

"No I am not," Arthur replied indignantly.

"Then prove it," Merlin challenged. "If you are _really_ not scared then you should have no problem trying to guess what's on the other side of the Border. It would just be some harmless fun."

"Merlin," Arthur said in that warning tone that the manservant usually ignored, "_shut up."_

Merlin was about to disobey that order and continue pestering the prince, but then one of the knights started saying something to Arthur, probably in an effort to stop the bickering. Merlin supposed he could let it go; he had on plenty of occasions. In fact, most of his conversations with Arthur ended with a 'shut up' and not for the first time Merlin wondered what that said about their odd relationship.

The only problem with no longer being focused on annoying Arthur was that Merlin's attention was left free to roam, and at the worst possible time. Merlin had traveled through these particular woods plenty of times and almost every place had some sort of memory buried in it. But while most of the memories were bittersweet and occasionally bordering on happy the memory of a certain clearing was perhaps anything but.

At first when they rode into the clearing Merlin just felt a vague sense of déjà vu, but then as he looked around him he couldn't help but stiffen. He recognized this place, even if he had been unconscious both when he first came to it and when he left. He'd seen it enough in his dreams and had seen Arthur's odd behavior every time they passed by this place to know what it was.

And sure enough, Merlin spotted a rather blackened metal door that led to an underground dungeon, one that both Merlin and Arthur knew quite well.

Upon seeing it a flurry of images flashed through Merlin's brain, and none of them pleasant. He winced and tried to haul the memories back behind the locked doors within his mind where they belonged. He had long ago dealt with what had happened and to this day he didn't regret it one bit. The ordeal with Arcturus and the torture had brought him and Arthur closer together and Merlin had prevented anything bad from happening to either Camelot or his prince. But just because he had reconciled himself with what had happened and it no longer haunted him didn't mean that it didn't still hurt and unnerve him to think of the time he spent in that dungeon. All things considered, the whole experience had actually been made worthwhile, but he still had trouble not shuddering when he remembered the feel of the whip or the burning fire of Arcturus' magic or Arthur being clubbed on the head.

Merlin shook his head and looked away from the place that contained so many painful memories and when he did he caught sight of the look on Arthur's face. Apparently the prince had noticed where they were, too. Arthur was tense and rigid in his saddle and he was staring at the metal door lying on the ground. His face had morphed into an unfeeling mask, but Merlin could still see the torrent of emotions raging beneath it. Arthur didn't have any fond memories of the time he spent there, either, and Merlin could see the pain written all over his face. Arthur had always been an open book to Merlin.

Suddenly the prince's eyes snapped away from the unpleasant sight and focused on Merlin. For a brief moment the two boys shared a glance, a thought, a sentiment. The entire experience had been painful and traumatizing for them both, and the only way they had gotten through it in one piece was by sticking together.

Then the group rode out of the clearing and Arthur turned away, the look of friendship that they had shared broken.

It wasn't long before another "argument" broke out between master and servant and this time it lasted for much longer. Both men needed to put those memories behind them and they were relying on each other and the ease and silliness of their banter to put everything straight again.

There were times, of course, when Merlin missed the openness and vulnerability he had seen in Arthur during their recovery from their capture. In that dark dungeon class and birth no longer had any meaning and they had changed from being master and servant to being the one who would do anything to prevent the other's pain. A bond had been formed that only living through certain experiences could forge. And there were some days where he missed it.

But he knew that Arthur was far from comfortable expressing his emotions and their banter was his way of showing that he cared. And it was enough for him to know that, though, one day Merlin hoped that he and Arthur would openly admit to their friendship.

In truth, there were many things that Merlin hoped for, but he was starting to believe that that would never happen. He hated lying to Arthur and he desperately wished that one day the prince would know of his magic and accept it. In his mind Merlin had a while back envisioned the kind of world he wanted—a world where Arthur was king and Albion was a land of peace and prosperity and he, Merlin, was at Arthur's side and there were never any secrets between them. Merlin wanted to make that future happen more than anything, but these days he was starting to think that he would never see it. If he didn't die in some sort of battle then Arthur might kill him if he found out the truth. Merlin didn't want to believe that Arthur would kill him, but he was starting to realize that it was more than likely that the prince would do so in a fit of anger. Possibly the only worse scenario was that Arthur would banish him. Merlin had learned a long time ago that if something ever happened to Arthur or he lost him that he would be unable to control his magic any longer. Merlin was afraid that if he was exiled then he would become the worst enemy that Camelot had ever seen, and that alone made Merlin determined that Arthur would either accept him or kill him. There could be no half-way.

But right now it seemed that Arthur would never learn of his magic, and perhaps that was preferable to the other possibilities. And at times when he and Arthur bickered and pretended to fight and Merlin could see the thinly veiled friendship underneath their masks Merlin found that he didn't particularly care about any of that. Despite how much he hated lying to Arthur and how much he wanted their friendship to be more open, Merlin was content where they were, because anything more would be frightening.

But Merlin's waning hope was renewed that night when he kept watch with Arthur after all the other knights had fallen asleep.

Merlin had just been trying to kill time and wait for when he got tired enough to be sure that he wouldn't have any nightmares due to the reminder earlier that day and Arthur had been doing his duty—keeping watch. Silence had reigned for some time when the prince had broken it.

Arthur stared into the fire and whispered to his servant, "Surprisingly, you weren't wrong, Merlin. I am afraid…but not for myself."

"Then why?" Merlin ventured quietly.

The prince looked at him. "If we can't do this, if we can stop this storm then Camelot will be destroyed. Everyone back home…will be dead. We have no idea what's on the other side of the Border, which means that we could run into any kind of trouble, perhaps the kind that would stop us for good. If we can't do this then everything will be lost."

Merlin could see it, that same helplessness that he first saw several years ago. Arthur had never known less about what was going to happen than he did now, and it was scaring him. "Which is precisely why you'll succeed," Merlin stated confidently.

Arthur just gave him a confused look.

"Fear is a very powerful motivator," Merlin explained, "and so is love. And the fear for something or someone you love is the most powerful thing in the world. It can move mountains and do all sorts of impossible things because it is more powerful than anything else. Arthur, you have never failed your kingdom, especially not when it needed you, so you won't now. I'm your servant, remember? I know you and I know that whatever is on the other side of that Border can't stand up to you when you have something worth fighting for."

"You truly believe that?" Arthur asked.

"Yes."

"Well then, that just proves that you're an idiot. My father would say that strength and power comes from a blade or control of a kingdom." Arthur turned away from Merlin.

"Your father can't be right about everything, no one is. Maybe this time he's wrong," Merlin said quietly.

"Maybe," Arthur hesitated, "but you're still an idiot."

Merlin smiled. "Always, sire."

* * *

><p>Arthur had been anxious since he had woken up this morning, though, through years of practice he managed to hide it completely. Well, almost completely. His men seemed perfectly oblivious to their leader's stress and Arthur liked it that way. Only Merlin seemed aware of it, though, perhaps the boy was just guessing.<p>

Arthur had long ago given up trying to understand what went on in Merlin's brain, but he could still tell by the way Merlin kept looking at him that either some animal was about to poop on his head or the manservant was possibly concerned for his master. No doubt the useless servant was just waiting for another opportunity to spout some more of his phony wisdom.

There were times when Arthur hated how well Merlin could read him, but other times he was actually grateful for it. As much as he hated to admit it, Merlin always knew exactly when his prince needed encouragement and then the idiot would try to provide it. Merlin definitely wasn't an ordinary servant, but Arthur found that most days he was rather glad that that was the case.

But though Merlin had been helpful with his encouraging words a few nights ago, there was nothing he could do for his prince now.

It had been several days since they had left Camelot and Arthur had woken up this morning knowing that today they would reach the Border. If he was being logical Arthur knew that Gaius was probably more than right about the odd magical element to the Border, which could bode very badly for their quest.

If the Border refused to let any of them pass through then all was lost. The fate of Camelot rested on chance, on that magical line liking them, and that didn't sit too well with Arthur. If he was stopped from going through then that would be it, he wouldn't be able to change those circumstances by trying and fighting harder like he usually did. This was completely out of his control and Arthur Pendragon hated it.

So no, Merlin couldn't help with this. The only thing that would rid him of his concern would be getting the whole thing over with. And after several hours of riding, on the fourth day of their quest the group came to a stop; the easiest part of their journey was at an end.

Though there was a place on his map marked "The Border" Arthur hadn't been positive that they would know it when they saw it. As a rule King Uther didn't want his knights—or any of his subjects for that matter—going near the Border, which meant that Arthur had never actually seen it. Everyone always referred to it as being an invisible line, so Arthur couldn't help but wonder how they would know if they were in the right place. The only sign would be them mysteriously prevented from going in a certain direction, and Arthur definitely did _not_ want that to happen.

But the Crowned Prince realized that he needn't have worried about missing it now, seeing as it was it was quite noticeable. Perhaps five feet in front of them was a thick, dark, black line on the ground that ran left and right as far as they could see. But that dark line wouldn't be difficult to overlook, no, it was something else that caught their attention. About every ten seconds or so a shiver of golden light would run up the Border and into the sky, and as it did everyone could plainly see what looked like a thick, magical shield or wall.

After the golden light passed up into the sky the area around them would look normal once again and Arthur could swear that there was nothing standing between them and the other side of that line. And yet, they had all clearly seen the wave of light pulse up it, definitively marking where the beginning of one world ended and another began. So even though the Border _was_ invisible there was no mistaking its location.

"Dismount and lead your horses," Arthur ordered to his men. He had no idea how this would work, but it probably would be best to have their feet on the ground.

Arthur started to lead his horse forward as his dismounting men watched. This was it, the moment of truth. Whatever happened now would decide Camelot's fate. Arthur came to a stop right in front of the Border and took a deep breath. He closed his eyes and stepped forward.

* * *

><p>I'm sorry for leaving you guys with that, but it seemed like the perfect way to end the chapter. I had planned to make it a little bit longer, but this actually worked out better and fixed a few tiny problems I was having. I apologize if this story is seeming a little slow. I promise you, there will be a fair amount of action and interesting things coming up soon. Thank you for reading and the reviews I received for the previous chapter. Please review because that will encourage me to write quicker, which I definitely need a kick in the pants for.<p> 


	3. Surprises

I'm sorry, I'd hoped to get this up last weekend, but I was just way too busy for that. And then I was hoping to post this yesterday, but again that didn't quite work out. Of course, it doesn't particularly help to have a new and very addicting TV show that's stealing all of my attention, either. *sighs* It seems that I'm always making excuses for being late. Anyway, here it is and hope you're not too mad at me. As a special treat this chapter happens to be 2000 words more than normal, so I hope that helps.

* * *

><p>For a moment Arthur felt nothing. There was a slight breeze and the temperature was fairly cool, but other than what was normal the prince felt nothing. Then it hit him. A faint tingling sensation seemed to run through him and for the briefest of seconds he could feel something old and ancient and powerful and…kind, and somehow it felt familiar. But more surprising than either of those sensations was the moment when he felt the powerful force recognize<em> him<em>, too. And then it was over.

Arthur opened his eyes and instead of seeing the pulsing Border in front of him he saw everything that had been beyond it. Really, it was just more forest, but it was a part of the forest that he had never been in before. Arthur turned around and saw the rest of his men—Merlin, Leon and all the other knights—on the other side of the Border. Arthur felt joy and relief and triumph. He had made it! There was hope for Camelot yet.

A grin spread across the prince's face and it was mirrored by all his knight's grins. Arthur gestured and his men began to move forward, heartened by his success, with Merlin and Leon in the front. The two men started forward, leading their horses by the reins, and Arthur watched without a single doubt in his mind that they would make it across.

He saw Merlin move through it almost immediately, the only change in the Border being that the area around Merlin turned a light and yet somehow deep blue that Arthur distantly found familiar. Merlin stepped through without resistance and Arthur found that a small part of his brain was immensely comforted by the fact that Merlin was with him.

Grinning once more, Arthur turned to see Leon coming into contact with the barrier.

But the grin on his face began to fade as he watched Leon step into the magical shield and a red light outline the knight's figure. The red light danced along Leon and then, after a small moment receded. Suddenly the knight was stopped in his tracks as if some unseen force had blocked his path and his grin fell, too. Confused, Leon tried moving forward again but once more he was stopped and this time the red light hadn't appeared. In a vain effort the knight tried to get through once more, but it was of no use.

"I'm sorry, sire," Leon said. Arthur was almost surprised to learn that sound was uninhibited by the magical Border.

Arthur couldn't believe it! Leon couldn't get across, and yet _Merlin_ of all people had! Arthur felt disappointment and a little bit of despair grip him. "It's all right, Sir Leon, can't be helped," he replied to his second in command.

The knight backed away and the others began moving forward, though, with far less confidence than they had originally had. Arthur's hope continued to wane as, one by one, each of his men failed to step through the Border. Each time one of them tried the red light would appear and then, after a second, reject them.

It almost felt as if he was watching some sort of nightmare, for all of the knights were kept from crossing. Arthur had no idea what was waiting out there and he had been counting on the skill and numbers of his men to get them to where they needed to go. Now if he ran against trouble it would be up to him and him alone—Merlin didn't really count—to fight past it.

The Crowned Prince rarely doubted his abilities, but he also wasn't an idiot. He knew that in some cases it didn't matter how good with a sword you were, sometimes there would be nothing he could do.

Finally each one of his men had struck out. Arthur put his brave and unaffected mask in place and spoke to them through the barrier. "It's all right, men. Go back to Camelot and inform my father that I'll be continuing this quest on my own." Arthur heard a small, indignant sound from Merlin, but he ignored it. "I'll see you in a couple of weeks."

Leon nodded. "Yes, sire." He began pulling some bags of off his horse. "You may as well take all you can carry; we won't have need of it." He tossed the bags through the barrier and Arthur couldn't help but think that it wasn't fair that saddle bags could get through but not his knights.

"Thank you," Arthur said.

Leon nodded once more. "Good luck on your journey, sire," the noble replied. With that, he and the rest of the knights mounted their horses and rode away, though; Arthur could tell that they were reluctant to.

After they had faded from sight Arthur turned to Merlin. "Care to tell me, Merlin, how, of all people, I get stuck with you?"

"What, you think I planned this?" Merlin asked incredulously. "At least you're not completely alone. At least you'll have some company."

"_Mer_lin, you hardly count as company, more like an annoying fly that keeps buzzing around my head." Arthur wasn't really angry with Merlin, but this was just how he dealt with the despair and fear he was feeling. It didn't take a genius to realize that the odds of their success were significantly lowered without the other knights.

"I _could_ go back to Camelot with them if you would like," Merlin said with only just the barest hint of humor in his tone that told Arthur he was joking.

"You're here now, you might as well stay. Who knows, maybe you'll be useful for something," Arthur said resignedly, but the tiny smile on his lips gave him away.

"Maybe I'll surprise you," Merlin said as he began to tie the bags to their horses.

"You never stop surprising me, Merlin," Arthur said as he climbed on his horse.

"Is that supposed to be a complement or an insult?"

Arthur just gave Merlin a look and then began to urge his horse forward. He heard Merlin huff behind him and he couldn't help but smile.

* * *

><p>Despite the pretense he was keeping up, Arthur was actually quite happy that Merlin was here with him. Truthfully, he had never even considered the fact that he would be anywhere else, but after what happened with his men it now seemed more than possible.<p>

But it hadn't happened, Merlin hadn't been stopped. He had gone through the Border almost immediately, though why him of all people Arthur wasn't sure. He was just glad that his idiot manservant was here with him, the alternative, for some reason, scared him to think about.

And even though he was rather concerned—not afraid, he would never admit that—about the fact that he was in unknown territory without any backup, Merlin's very presence seemed to calm him, make him think that everything was going to be all right.

However, that did not mean that he wasn't keeping an eye out for anything dangerous as he and Merlin rode on towards their destination.

"So, Merlin, is it how you imagined it?" Arthur asked when he got bored with the silence after a while.

Merlin flinched slightly and Arthur got the impression that he had been deep in thought, hence the unnatural quiet from him. The manservant gazed at his surroundings and then frowned. "No, not really. I was expecting something more…flashy or…unusual."

Arthur huffed in amusement. "I know what you mean. Whatever I was expecting I wasn't expecting it to look like home." It was true; the forest around them looked just like every other forest they had ever been in.

Merlin, for his part, didn't see what all the fuss was about considering how normal this place seemed. Uther had probably been overreacting, again. "Who knows?" Merlin said off-handedly, "Maybe this whole quest will be a piece of cake. Perhaps we'll have no trouble at all."

"_Mer_lin!" Arthur cried as he turned around sharply to glare at him. "You've probably just jinxed us. Only an idiot like you would say something like that!"

"What?" Merlin asked, throwing his hands in the air, "You honestly think that I have the power to jinx this whole quest just by speculating?"

Scowling with mock anger Arthur replied, "With your luck, yes."

Merlin scoffed as if he couldn't believe what he was hearing. "I'll have you know, Arthur, that my luck was fine until I met you."

"Funny," Arthur said, smirking at his servant, "I was just about to say the same thing about you. If you remember, someone tried to_ assassinate _me not long after you arrived in Camelot. Maybe you brought danger with you."

Suddenly Arthur let out a loud and long laugh and completely missed the way Merlin paled. Mirth bubbled up inside of Arthur and it was a full couple of minutes before he recovered enough to calm down his agitated horse and answer Merlin who was insistently asking what was so funny. "Ah, it's nothing, Merlin; I just have trouble seeing you as being even remotely dangerous." At that he broke into laughter again while Merlin merely scowled, which, of course, only caused Arthur to laugh even harder.

But all humor aside Arthur truly believed that Merlin could never be dangerous. How could he? Merlin had the kindest and most innocent heart he had ever seen, except for perhaps Gwen. If anything, Merlin negated trouble, which could be why Arthur always subconsciously felt safer around the boy. The idea of him having anything to do with danger just didn't make sense to the prince. But that all would change very soon.

* * *

><p>The forest around hadn't changed much all day and there had been no signs of anything strange or abnormal. Merlin and Arthur decided to make camp for the night just as it started getting dark. Arthur found himself getting more and more appreciative that his servant was here with him, since that meant that there was someone to share the watch with and someone to cook. Arthur had never been good at cooking anything, but Merlin could usually throw together something tasty.<p>

But more than those two things Arthur realized how bored he would get if he didn't have Merlin chattering on endlessly. The boy may be completely hopeless with a sword, but he did have his other uses.

"I'll take first watch," Arthur said after Merlin had cleaned up and for the night. His manservant looked a bit tired and Arthur had always preferred the first watch above all others.

It wasn't until an hour or two after Merlin had conked out that that sixth sense that all good knights had begun to start tingling in the back of his brain. Arthur searched the area around them with his eyes and listened closely for any sort of sign of danger, but he found nothing. Still, though, that didn't mean he could relax.

His eyes were drawn briefly to his manservant and in the quiet night he heard that echoing scream again. Nearly jumping out of his skin Arthur frantically looked around for the source, but it only took the prince a moment to remember that the scream had been inside his own head.

Arthur hated this. For months after they had been captured by Arcturus, Arthur had heard whenever he'd had a moment alone with his thoughts a phantom scream. When that whip had been brought down on Merlin in that hellish dungeon Arthur had heard the most horrific of screams, and those screams stayed with him, echoing throughout his mind.

Eventually Arthur had managed to put the whole experience behind him and pretend that it had never happened. But whenever he saw or heard something that reminded him of it, those screams of complete and utter agony haunted him again.

Once on a hunting trip Merlin, like the clumsy idiot that he was, had fallen in a river. The manservant had wrung out his shirt and in the process Arthur had gotten a glimpse of his mangled back. He had been unable to stop the torrent of memories that had assaulted him at that sight and when he had seen the very place where their torment had taken place just a few days ago it hadn't been much better.

And now, days later, Arthur still had trouble blocking out those screams from his memories whenever he got a moment to himself. Yet another reason Arthur was glad Merlin was here.

Arthur shook his head trying to dislodge the phantom screams. Those memories were perhaps the last thing on earth he wanted to relive. Seeing Merlin in so much pain, witnessing his endurance and strength even in the face of so much agony, watching the boy get torture before his very eyes—no, not something he wished to remember.

Though, it was probably the memory of those things that had made the prince open up to Merlin a few nights ago. Rarely did Arthur ever show weakness, even to Merlin, and if he did actually admit to having some it probably was because he was remembering a time when there had been no secrets between them. A time when they had been equals, when they had had to bond together to survive. That misery had forged a friendship between them that Arthur never really could forget.

Unexpectedly Arthur was pulled out of his thoughts as he keen ears picked up on a twig snapping and that sixth sense roared to life again. Slowly but decisively Arthur knelt down next to Merlin and began shaking him awake. The boy jerked and Arthur covered his mouth so he couldn't make a sound. Merlin's eyes met his own and the prince put his finger to his lips in an effort to get the message across. He saw comprehension dawn in Merlin's eyes and Arthur removed his hand.

Slowly, both men stood up, Arthur grabbing his sword in the process, and scanned the trees around them for any sign of life or danger. They both could hear it now, the clear sound of branches cracking and dead leaves rustling. The two men prepared themselves.

Abruptly a man burst into their small clearing with as much grace as a drunken cow.

For a brief second neither Merlin nor Arthur could make out the man's features in the dim light, and Arthur was more than ready to run him through without taking the time to find out. But just before he did, the flickering movement of their fire cast light upon the man's face.

Recognition sprouted in both master and servant and, as one—Arthur disbelievingly and Merlin happily—they said, "_Gwaine?" _

Merlin couldn't believe it! Gwaine was here. This was definitely a welcome surprise, especially considering that the secret noble was nearly as good as Arthur when it came to sword fighting. Maybe even better. Having Gwaine along could be incredibly useful and may just end up saving the quest.

"What are you doing here?" Merlin asked as he started forward.

"Oh, you know me," Gwaine said in mock casualness, "just passing through." The two men met and embraced. The combined effect of both Merlin's and Gwaine's grins seemed brighter than the sun.

Arthur's incredulous voice came from somewhere behind them. "Oh, and how is it that the two of you are allowed through but no one of actual use was?"

The two friends pulled away from each other. "What's wrong with him?" Gwaine asked, nodding in a certain prat's direction.

"He's a little grumpy," Merlin replied.

"So same as always then," Gwaine remarked and began heading towards the man in question. "What?" he said to Arthur, "not happy to see me?"

"Why would I be?" Arthur grumbled as he sheathed his sword and sat down next to the fire once again, Merlin and Gwaine following suit. "What are you doing here anyway?" Arthur demanded with a lot less friendliness in his tone than Merlin had had. Of course, despite what most people would think, Merlin knew that Arthur wasn't really mad at Gwaine's presence, frustrated perhaps, but not mad.

"Nothing much," the drunkard answered, "I didn't exactly plan on ending up here. Then again, I tend not to plan too much. I've found that in most cases nothing ever goes exactly how you want it to, so why try to plan something you've got no control of? But, of course, I bet you plan out everything, Arthur." the man smiled good-naturedly.

"I don't like uncertainties," Arthur defended. "Uncertainties get people killed."

Gwaine huffed. "Well, I'm still alive so obviously I've done something right." He gave Arthur a light hit on the shoulder, which was his way of saying 'no hard feelings'. But Arthur looked like he might take offense or at least keep defending himself so Merlin interrupted.

"But seriously, Gwaine, how did you get here?" Merlin asked curiously.

The man gave one of his sloppy smiles. "Well, it is actually quite an interesting story," he said with a slightly mischievous glint in his eyes.

Arthur groaned and seemed to be about to say something when he was shushed by one of Merlin arms flapping at him as the servant fixed his gaze on Gwaine, clearly not wanting the prince to interfere with the man's tale. Merlin completely missed the look of surprise on Arthur's face or how his actions were just further cementing his belief that Gwaine was a bad influence on his manservant.

Despite Arthur's obvious dislike of the situation Gwaine continued with his story. "It's a bit fuzzy," Arthur snorted at that, "but I remember being in a tavern. It's a good tavern, too. Good ale, pretty women, small prices, and I haven't been banished from it yet, which is certainly a plus. Not that banishments usually stop me," Gwaine threw a quick playful smirk at Arthur. "Now, there was a group of four or five men drinking at the table across from me. They were big, too." Gwaine paused for a moment here and gave a rather sheepish smile. "I-ah, I'm not quite sure what _exactly _it was that I said to them, it was after I'd had several big tankards. But I think I may have insulted their mothers, compared them to their sisters—though I seriously doubt they had any—mentioned that they smelled like goats, and possibly spilled their drinks on them."

Merlin chuckled at Gwaine's absurdity and stole a glance at Arthur and saw that the prince was stuck somewhere between amusement and exasperation. Finally Arthur seemed to just settle for shaking his head at the stupidity of it all.

Gwaine seemed to be lapping up the praise and started speaking faster. "Next thing I know I'm running as fast as I can with a couple of big, strong guys chasing after me. Even I know when it's time to fight and when it's time to disappear. I just kept running, I don't know how long. I just know that every time I looked back they were still following." He gave Merlin a mock serious look. "The good thing about fat, strong guys is that they tend not to be too fast. Remember that, it may save your life one day."

The man broke into his grin again and returned to his tale. "Suddenly I start nearing the edge of a forest and I notice the men flagging behind as if they're afraid of something, but I don't stop. Then I hit something solid real hard, but it doesn't hurt at all like a fist would. I see this bright red light around me and I feel this tingling sensation all over my body…like standing too close to a storm. But then the red light vanishes to be briefly replaced by this blue light that felt…kind, and then I was through."

Merlin and Arthur shared a momentary glance.

"It wasn't until the running had sobered me up enough that I realized I must be in—or across I suppose—the Border. I've heard the stories, of course, but I'd never really thought about them. In fact, all I remember is some rumor about how only those with magic can cross." He looked down at himself to check if he was really there. "Obviously not."

"So why didn't you just go back?" Arthur inquired.

"Come on, mate," Gwaine said with that impish look on his face. "I've always loved a good challenge, and this seems to be the kind of challenge that a bloke only gets once in a lifetime. I wasn't about to just waste it. Especially not if those fellows are still waiting around for me. So after getting my breath back I decided to do a little exploring. That's not so bad, now is it?"

"But how did you find us?" Merlin asked with that same old innocent curiosity.

"Well, Merlin mate, I was wandering around and just about to make a fire of my own when I heard the sweet dulcet tones of Princess here," he smirked pointedly at Arthur. "I peeked through the trees and I saw you two and I decided that I might surprise you. I waited around for a few hours until I was sure that you were both nice and comfortable and then I came barging through the brush. I was hoping to maybe give you the scares, Arthur—you definitely need it. Anyway, that's my story." The man who was banished in more pubs and cities than anyone else sighed and looked at them expectantly. "So…what are the two of you doing here? Merlin I understand, but I also heard a rumor about the king not liking this place all that much. It has to be something important to bring you here, Arthur."

Master and servant looked at each other as if debating what to tell him. Of course, Arthur made the decision without caring about what Merlin had to say. "That's none of your business, Gwaine. I suggest you cross over the Border again before you are not able to."

"Come on, princess, you're not going to tell me anything? What? Are you running away? Or is it something embarrassing? Did you get married to someone you weren't supposed to?" Gwaine begged and guessed.

Arthur merely turned away from the man and began stoking the fire. But Merlin, on the other hand, decided to let Gwaine in on what they were doing.

"Gwaine, you know that big storm cloud in the sky?" The man nodded. "Well, apparently it's being caused by magic and it's heading straight for Camelot. If Arthur and I can't find a way to stop it soon then Camelot will be destroyed. There is supposed to be some sort of magic item here that's controlling it."

"_Mer_lin!" Arthur exclaimed. "What do you think you are doing?" he asked angrily.

Merlin turned briefly away from Gwaine to look at Arthur. "He could be really helpful, besides, who is he going to tell? Almost everyone thinks that he is permanently drunk. And he did save your life if you remember, I'm sure we can trust him."

He turned back to Gwaine, ignoring Arthur's incredulous looks. "We got through much like you did, except the knights we brought with us were stopping from following us. The light around Arthur was red for a moment and then it turned blue and he stepped through. For the rest of them the light around them stayed red. Must have something to do with how the Border chooses people."

Arthur perked up a bit at that. Suddenly an image flashed in his mind. "But Merlin, when you stepped through there was no red light. Only blue. It accepted you right away." _That's odd, _Arthur thought.

"Well, well, Merlin," Gwaine said, smiling at his friend, "it must really like you." Neither man noticed how Merlin paled at the idea that the Border had a special reason for letting him through. And neither of the men even thought to attribute it to magic.

* * *

><p>It wasn't until Merlin had fallen into a deep sleep that both his body and his magic instinctively knew that he would need for everything that was coming next did Gwaine lose the care-free and drunk persona that he almost always kept handy and spoke plainly.<p>

"Hey," the man said as he noticed Arthur's eyes droop slightly, "why don't I take this next shift? You seem to have had a harder time of it lately than I have, what with the imminent danger to your home and all."

Arthur shrugged and made to get up, but a hand on his shoulder stopped him. "Look," Gwaine said seriously, "do you really have such a big problem with my presence here? 'Cause if you do then I can leave. This quest that you're on seems pretty important and I really wouldn't want to be the cause of so many deaths. Say the word and I'm gone."

Arthur sighed tiredly and settled back down again. "I don't really have a problem with you being here except that I'm not exactly in the mood to put up with your prattle. Though, I suppose it would keep Merlin happy and busy. And I know he would definitely want you to come with us. I just want to save my home. And…maybe you can help with that," Arthur conceded.

Gwaine smiled slyly. "And what would I get for my assistance?" he asked jokingly.

"Well, right now I don't have much, and I'm definitely not going to give you more money to waste on ale," he chuckled slightly. "But I have seen you fight and I can try to promise you that one day when I'm king you will no longer be banished. Maybe I'll even make you a knight if you can stay sober enough. I'm sure that's not all that important to you, but I know Merlin would love to see you more." Arthur smiled. "He can never seem to get enough friends. I swear that he knows half the people in Camelot by now."

Gwaine laughed a bit. "I wouldn't be surprised." He sighed. "Maybe I'll take you up on that offer one day." Arthur made to get up again but was stopped this time by Gwaine's words. "But that's not why I'll help you with this quest of yours."

"Then why?" Arthur asked.

"Because Merlin is my best friend and currently he is on a strange quest with who knows what waiting out there. He's my only friend, and I'm not about to leave him if I think he may be in danger at any point in the near future."

Gwaine's honesty and sincerity shocked Arthur. There had been a time when he had been saying such things about Merlin. A time when he would openly admit to the friendship between them because he had long since stopped caring what anyone thought about it. A time when the very idea of Merlin being alone would chill Arthur to the bone.

But Arthur had locked away all those feelings and emotions because he simply couldn't handle them. But even now the very idea of Merlin being in danger will send a jolt of chilling fear down Arthur's spine and Arthur will start hearing those screams and seeing Merlin in agony once again and all he will want to do is kill someone. That will never go away.

In some ways he and Gwaine were a lot alike. Except Gwaine had no trouble expressing his emotions, while whenever Arthur tried to do so they came out wrong and twisted and most likely the exact opposite of what he had meant to say. And that often only ended up making things worse.

Gwaine was exactly the kind of friend Merlin needed and the friend Arthur wanted to be. But for all the prince's skills and all the things his trainers and teachers had taught him Arthur still had no idea how to be the proper friend. Which is why most days he stopped trying. He pretended like he and Merlin had never openly admitted their friendship to each other and that he truly didn't care about his servant. But it wasn't true, Arthur honestly had no idea what he would do without Merlin, and he didn't really want to think about it.

"Well," Arthur said at last, "I suppose we could use you on this trip. And if nothing else it will keep Merlin happy and hopefully busy enough to stop pestering me. He could use someone like that on this quest."

The two men remained silent for a few minutes before Gwaine spoke. "You know, Arthur, I honestly don't understand why Merlin stays with you. Of all the people in the world he could serve, of all those he could help, I don't understand why he chose you. He's loyal to you, Arthur, insanely so. He'd follow you to hell and back just to make sure that you're safe. He'd do anything for you. And in my opinion….you don't deserve it. You don't deserve a friend like Merlin, not with the way you treat him."

Arthur sighed and squeezed his eyes shut. "I know," was all he said.

"But," Gwaine continued, and Arthur could hear the beginning of a smile in his voice, "he sees the good in people that no one else can. He saw the man behind the silly drunkard in me. He showed me that even though you're a prattish noble you were worth saving. Merlin may seem like an idiot to most people, but he can see what no one else can. I trust him. And if he thinks that you're worth all of this then I trust that he's right. He can see the good before it appears."

Arthur looked up at Gwaine. "Are you saying that you think I may be worth both yours and Merlin's time?" he asked. He'd never thought that the inebriated man would ever give him a complement—not that he had been looking for one.

"Maybe," Gwaine said as he smiled. But then he turned serious. "Just don't prove Merlin wrong."

Arthur glanced at the sleeping man and saw how peaceful he looked. Whether he'd ever admit it again or not, that boy was his best friend. He'd lose a lot more than Gwaine's good will if he broke the bond that had been formed years ago in a dirty dungeon. Arthur just hoped that no matter what happen, no matter how mad he got at Merlin, that he would never push the idiot away. Because Arthur knew that if he did he would instantly regret it.

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><p>Yay! Gwaine is going to be in this fic. Originally I didn't plan on having him here, but a little while back I realized that I really needed to have a third person on this quest. I hope everything was to your liking and all your curiosity is still piqued. See you next time and please review.<p> 


	4. A Fate Worse Than Death

Yay! I managed to get this one up a day early, that makes me happy. Thank you for all the reviews so far. You are all more than amazing.

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><p>Arthur was about ready to kill someone. He was a trained knight, a future king. From a very young age he had been trained in the art of diplomacy, patience—admittedly he had never been very good at those two—how to deal with stress and all kinds of pressure, how to resist torture, and how to out-think and out-fight any situation or creature. He had gone up against all manner of vile and deadly monsters and had lived to tell the tale. On more than one occasion he had ridden out to face certain death and hadn't shown an ounce of fear.<p>

As a prince and future king he had been taught all these things, how to guard and overcome his emotions and endure all kinds of hardships and trials. But despite all his training, all the lessons that had been hammered into him, Arthur had never been taught how to withstand _this_.

For the past four hours Merlin and Gwaine had been chattering on and on about every sort of silly and useless thing under the sun and it was driving Arthur crazy.

At first it hadn't been too bad. Just one of the many things that Merlin and Gwaine had in common was their tendency to only be quiet when they first woke up in the mornings. And so, for a while, there had been some nice and comfortable silence. But then Merlin had made the mistake of asking Gwaine if it was normal for him to be chased out of a tavern by really strong and livid men. The roguish man had then proceeded to smile and begin a very long telling of every tavern he had ever been to and all the trouble he had gotten into in each one. His 'escapades', which invariably lead to being kicked out or banished from whichever tavern he was in, included not having enough money to pay for his drinks, getting into fights, insulting everyone within hearing distance, and, when he was _really_ drunk, mistaking some very big and prideful men for women. And sometimes all in one night.

Merlin, of course, had found the stories amusing and had never made even the slightest attempt to put a stop to them.

And when Gwaine had finally finished all of his tavern stories he had gone on to talk about all his other amazing experiences. The man had spoken of how he had encountered all manner of strange and rather silly creatures and things. Apparently Gwaine had once woken up in a chicken pen with the scariest chicken he had ever seen baring down on him. The drunk had sworn that the huge chicken's breath had been so bad that he was almost breathing fire and that the nasty thing had chased him all the way out of town, squawking like a dying duck the entire time.

Gwaine had told tales about a couple he had met that _just had_ to have been vampires (why _else_ would they have such pointy teeth?), and about a man that had twelve heads. Arthur might have been inclined to think that some of these things were caused by magic if they all hadn't been so _bloody ridiculous._ Most, if not all, of them were probably just figments of Gwaine's ale-sodden brain.

In the beginning Arthur had found a few of the stories mildly amusing, but after _four hours_ of it he was about ready to break someone's neck. None of his training had prepared him for dealing with a Gwaine who was high on his one-person audience. Arthur was sure that he had long since passed his breaking point and any moment now he was going to lose it. In fact, Arthur was just about to yell over at Merlin and Gwaine—who was currently talking about the time that he had been pursued by a black, rider-less horse with glowing red eyes—when he heard someone call his name, someone that sounded a lot like Guinevere. Quickly, Arthur looked off into the trees where he could have sworn that Gwen's voice had come from.

But it couldn't be Gwen, not here. Arthur mentally shook himself. Hearing things was never a good sign; perhaps Merlin and Gwaine's prattle was causing him to go mad.

Just then he heard another sound, except this one wasn't nearly as welcoming as Gwen's beautiful voice. Arthur heard a scream that was most definitely Merlin's and he whipped his head around sharply, but the boy was still laughing at something Gwaine had said.

Arthur began to knead his forehead. _What's wrong with me?_ He wondered. Arthur opened his eyes and looked up again and for the briefest of moments he saw a great dragon land in front of him and spew a tongue of fire at him. Arthur jerked away from the phantom and his horse reared back with him. Arthur's gaze shot back to where the dragon had been but it was gone. In fact, everything was.

Arthur rubbed his eyes, he couldn't see anything but this odd, cold, blue mist that made his head swim. Frantically the prince searched all around him but couldn't see a thing in any direction. Suddenly he heard a familiar groan and he looked to his left and he saw Merlin shirtless and hanging from chains in a dirty dungeon. Arthur shot off his horse and drew his sword, but just as he began charging at the image it vanished into thin air. The prince began searching for his friend who needed him, but as he spun around he saw a Questing Beast clawing at him and in a desperate attempt to get out of its way he rolled and tumbled to the ground.

Unfortunately, the prince couldn't find the strength to get up again.

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><p>Honestly Merlin was surprised by Arthur's patience. The prince had been known to throw anything within reach at Merlin if he talked for more than five minutes. And even though Merlin had originally been enjoying Gwaine's stories, after the two of them had heard the sixth annoyed huff come from Arthur, they had both decided to test the future king's resilience. From then on Gwaine had come up with the most insane and wild stories that he could think of that wouldn't alert Arthur to the game they were playing while Merlin laughed and complemented each one as loudly and ridiculously as he could. And yet, after four hours of their antagonizing, he still hadn't broken.<p>

If only Arthur could keep that kind of lid on his temper all the time. As it was, the partners in crime were getting rather frustrated themselves that Arthur hadn't yet stuck his sword through something.

Merlin and Gwaine had just decided that they were going to start repeating every tale that the drunk had already told in the hopes that it might provoke some sort of entertaining reaction out of Arthur, when Merlin sat up straight as a rod in his saddle. Something was wrong. Merlin could feel his magic roaring to life and practically pounding against the mental walls in his mind in a frantic desire to attack something. Merlin literally felt dizzy with the effort of trying to hold his magic back.

Suddenly Merlin's nose began to tingle as a smell that was both sweet and vile assaulted him. The smell made his stomach roll and Merlin had a fleeting wish to pass out. But Merlin felt his magic rail against the sickly sweet concoction and protect him from its effects. Abruptly the nausea and dizzy went down to a tolerable level and Merlin opened his eyes, not aware that he had closed them. A thick, light blue and swirling mist surrounded him and Merlin found that he couldn't see anything and that somewhere along the way he had fallen off of his horse.

Merlin got to his feet, swaying a little because of the weight of the dark magic baring down on him. And yes, it had to be dark magic; nothing else would make him feel this violently ill or would cause the temperature to change so dramatically. It was freezing.

Out of nowhere Merlin turned and saw Will, the man who had been his best friend while he was growing up, standing in front of him with an arrow sticking out of his chest and blood seeping into his clothes.

That one image sent a shaft of pain into Merlin's heart and the warlock had trouble not crying out at the anguish that the memory of his lost friend gave him. In response to his pain his magic surged forward once more and the image vanished and Merlin could feel a wall being erected in his mind, protecting him from the evil magic. But then another blast of the magic hit him and Merlin could feel all of his worst memories being pulled to the surface and the only way he was able to stop them from overcoming him was with the help of many years of suppressing anything and everything he didn't wish to think about.

With a last mental push Merlin securely locked away every memory that hurt him and started forward once more, trying to find Arthur. If there had been any doubts in Merlin's head that they were all in danger they had been quashed by the assault on his memories.

The powerful warlock spun in every direction but for the life of him he couldn't see a thing but the sickening mist. "Arthur!" he called out, nearly choking as the fog entered his mouth. It felt like poison—Merlin should know.

He tried calling out again but still there was nothing. Merlin desperately wanted to use magic to disperse the vapors engulfing him so that he could find his prince, but he didn't know if he could risk Arthur seeing him performing magic.

Suddenly a groan that sounded both pained and angry reached Merlin's ears and the manservant immediately knew that it was Arthur's. Merlin set off at a dead run towards the sound, calling upon his magic as he did so. The mist cleared in front of his eyes and he could see Arthur clearly and what he saw scared him.

He didn't care any longer about Arthur seeing him perform magic because he wouldn't even be able to see Arthur with the blasted fog in the way and right now Arthur needed him. The crowned prince was flat on his back and his face was screwed up in pain, but that wasn't even the worst bit. Climbing on top of Arthur was a giant, bluish white spider that was just about to sink its stinger into his leg.

"NO!" Merlin yelled and reached his hand out, but before he could cast a spell the creature sunk the stinger deep into Arthur's flesh and the prince cried out in pain. Merlin automatically sent a wave of magic at the creature and it slammed into its hideous and glossy body. The spider swayed violently and nearly tumbled off of Arthur but managed to right itself.

Merlin was nearing it now and he could see his own distorted reflection mirrored in the spider's reflective body and it gave him shivers, but right now he was more concerned with Arthur, who was starting to shake fiercely. "Get off of him!" Merlin yelled at the spider, but its only reaction was to briefly look his way and give him what Merlin could only describe as a cruel smile. Merlin couldn't help but gasp as he saw each one of its dark black eyes that seemed to swarm with memories and emotions and death. Merlin could see dozens of images reflected in those depths and some of them he recognized. They were Arthur's.

The spider turned back to Arthur and seemed to suck something from him. The prince began to convulse even more violently and Merlin saw black and red mists come out of Arthur and flow into the spider's gaping and salivating mouth. And in a single moment Merlin knew what those mists were—they were memories, all of Arthur's most painful. The realization of what the creature was doing took Merlin's breath away and he faltered and nearly fell to the ground as he understood what his best friend was going through.

But the knowledge only strengthened Merlin's resolve and with one last burst of speed Merlin slammed into the hideous monster, knocking him off of Arthur.

Unfortunately both Merlin and the creature tumbled to the ground together and when they finally stopped rolling the spider was on top. The monster hissed loudly and then gave that sadistic smile again. And though Merlin couldn't understand what it was saying—if it was saying anything—it was almost as if he could read the creature's thoughts. He knew what it wanted, what it craved.

In his mind's eye Merlin saw the creature come across their emotional scent and he felt it pursue them. This was a monster that could feel emotions and memories and it wanted more than anything to feed upon all the most painful and agonizing memories it could find. When it got in reach of them it secreted a mist that was meant to make people think of anything and everything that they didn't want to, and even some things that they did. Whatever would lure them out. And then, once its prey had succumbed to the disorientating and befuddling effects of the fog it would come out and chose its victims one by one. Of _course_ it would go for Arthur first.

Merlin could feel its burning and gnawing desire to drink in all the excruciating and terrifying memories that each of the possessed. The venom within its stinger was supposed to draw out all the memories and bring them to the surface so that it could feed. When it was done with its meal there would be nothing left. In the process of taking the memories it would kill the victim.

But perhaps the most terrifying thing Merlin could feel was the creature's overwhelming lust for _his own_ memories. More than any being it had ever come across it wanted to drink Merlin's mind dry and harvest all the pain and suffering there and kill him as it did so.

The pure hunger and sadistic pleasure than Merlin could sense coming from the beast was enough to make him want to hurl, but he didn't think that right now was the time. Without any warning Merlin felt himself get blasted with the noxious fog and his magic took another severe blow and Merlin found himself battling both mentally and magically against the presence trying to invade his mind. And if that wasn't enough Merlin saw the stinger begin making its decent towards him. Merlin now knew enough about this creature to realize that he may never come out of his own tormented mind if that stinger was allowed to touch him. So with a great physical and magical effort Merlin pushed the creature away from him.

The spider flew backwards off of him and slammed into a tree trunk and as it did so Merlin felt the pressure on his mind ease somewhat. Merlin got to his feet and sent a quick glance at Arthur who wasn't moving anymore. Fear made Merlin's breath catch at the sight and for a brief moment he thought the prince might be dead, but then he pushed the thought away. Arthur was _not_ dying today.

Merlin went to stand in front of Arthur and Gwaine, who was lying unconscious or delirious next to the prince, and prepared himself to defend the people he cared about. Nothing new there.

The spider climbed to its feet—or legs—and turned to face Merlin. It hissed sharply and Merlin could see each of its black fangs. Vaguely Merlin wondered if all spiders had fangs like these or if it was just this particular monster.

The spider seemed to raise itself up to its full height, which was about five or six feet taller than Merlin, and made a sharp clicking sound that seemed to pierce Merlin's ears. It reared up on its hind legs and charged toward Merlin. The warlock shot his arm out and Arthur's sword which was laying useless on the ground started floating in midair. "Bregdan anweald gafeluec!" Merlin yelled and blue flames enveloped the sword and with one last flash of his eyes Merlin sent the weapon straight at the monster.

The sword speared the beast right in its mouth and for one moment it stopped moving and stood perfectly still and then it fell backwards, dead.

Merlin let out a large sigh as he felt the magic attacking his mind vanish entirely and saw all the mist fade out of sight. Warmth returned to the air and Merlin wanted nothing more than to sink to the ground and take a good, long nap. But his thoughts quickly shifted to Arthur and he turned around and ran to his side.

The prince was still flat on his back and wasn't moving at all save for the light rise and fall of his chest that indicated life. Arthur's right leg was bloody and the puncture wound from the stinger was weeping some sort of black substance that scared Merlin to no end. Merlin took a deep breath and pushed some of his magic forward so that he could understand what was happening to Arthur. The warlock had to pull away as he felt the pure pain that his prince was going through. He looked back at the damaged leg. In order to save Arthur's life he would have to remove the venom from his body and soon. Every second that Merlin wasted Arthur was in agony.

Merlin breathed in and out three times. This wasn't going to be easy. The venom was strong and it had already spread almost entirely through Arthur's system. When it completed infecting him Arthur would die and Merlin couldn't let that happen. Not today, not ever.

Merlin reached down into the core of his being, of his magic and he pulled it forth. He was already exhausted from fighting the spider and defending himself, but when it came to protecting Arthur his magic knew no bounds. Merlin put his hand over the wound and prepared himself to destroy every last ounce of the poison within Arthur's body.

Two hours later Merlin fell to the ground, exhausted. His job was complete…now he could rest.

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><p>You know, I really enjoyed writing this chapter and I think this may actually be my favorite chapter that I've written for anything so far. And it was interesting since spiders give me the absolute willies and this is the first proper action sequence that I've written. Oh, I've come up with plenty in my head, but this is the first one in any of my stories. Also, it is odd because I only came up with the whole spider thing a few days ago. It's funny how you can have everything planned out in its entirety and then you come up with something else that just fits incredibly well. Anyway, I hope you have all enjoyed this chapter as much as I have. Hope it doesn't suck.<p>

I was planning on making this chapter longer, but the next one is going to be much more tame than this and I was worried that it may not end up being long enough, so I decided to put a few scenes that I had been planning for this chapter to go in the next one. Hope the length seems fine to everyone. Once again thank you so much for the reviews and please keep them coming. Oh, and if anyone is looking for a good Merlin fic to read then please read llLethell's _"Fear of the Dark"_, it's really good.


	5. Fallout

Again, this is shorter than I wanted, but I slacked off too much and I still wanted to get this up today so here it is. This chapter is not as action-packed in the same way as the last one was, but hopefully it will still be entertaining. Thank you to all of you who reviewed, you are what keeps this story going.

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><p>Arthur had fully intended to get back up again when he dove out of the way of the Questing beast, but as soon as he had hit the ground a wave of memories had crashed into him and he had been overwhelmed.<p>

He saw his father lying on his bed, rapidly losing his mind. He saw the look in Gwen's eyes during Morgana's disappearance and felt the pain that it had caused him. He remembered his own pain because of Morgana's loss and the pain of those around him. Arthur saw the time when he had nearly killed his own father—a memory of great anguish to him now—because of a witch's lies. He saw and felt all the times that one of his men had died or Camelot was being attacked and innocents were suffering. And he also felt those few times when he had been terribly scared for Merlin. The time when he had drunk poison and the time they had been captured. Arthur saw each of these memories in excruciating detail and he wanted to scream with the physical and emotional pain of it all.

With each image that passed over Arthur's mind he felt his heart break at the sadness and the agony of it all. These were all the moments that he desperately wished he could change but never would be able to.

Suddenly Arthur felt a sharp pain _somewhere_ and all of the memories began descending on him…at once. He experienced each and every sad or painful or scary moment he had ever had all at the same time and the pain was too much for him. Arthur could feel himself sinking, disappearing, _dying_. The weight of it was killing him.

Then he felt something new. The memories were being sucked _from_ him, but not taken away. In fact, this new sensation only made the barrage of pain worse as more and more horrible things were dug up.

Arthur wasn't sure how long that lasted; how long his own memories threatened to destroy him. But abruptly he felt the images recede and the fire in his veins begin to be quelled. But Arthur knew that the pain hadn't gone away, he was merely being protected from it, and someone was taking his pain, enduring his pain for him. And he felt immeasurable gladness and gratitude towards this person for it.

Slowly but surely Arthur could feel himself returning to normal and a warm and comforting presence spread throughout his body. Over time the warmth replaced all the agony and the fear and the despair and Arthur soon found himself feeling safe and at peace. At last even the soothing presence disappeared and Arthur felt himself begin to return to the land of the awake.

Arthur bolted upright, ready to fend off whatever monster that was attacking him, but there was nothing. Everything was peaceful and quiet.

The first thing that Arthur noticed was that though there was a bloody hole torn in his pant leg, the limb itself was perfectly fine. On closer inspection Arthur could see nothing other than dried blood marring the skin of his leg. And the second thing that Arthur noticed was that Merlin was face down on the ground next to his feet…and that he wasn't moving.

Arthur was at his side in an instant and he gently rolled Merlin over so that he was lying on his back. His arms and legs were covered with deep lacerations and there was a nasty bruise on his cheek. The cuts did not seem to have been made by any knife or sword or any weapon that Arthur could place. At his best guess they were created by some sort of crude spike that had been dragged across Merlin's skin. But that still left a question as to what had made them.

Arthur looked up from Merlin and began to search the clearing with his eyes. It only took him a few seconds to spot _it._ At the other end of the clearing lying on its back was a giant, glossy, grayish spider. Just looking at it gave Arthur shivers, but what he found really strange was the object imbedded in its mouth. As he narrowed his gaze Arthur realized that it was _his_ own sword that had been used to kill this monster.

_What happened?_ Arthur wondered. He looked back at Merlin. The cuts were bleeding some and were most likely pretty painful, but they would hardly cause anyone to go into unconsciousness. Arthur pulled aside Merlin's coat and began tugging his shirt up. Just because he couldn't see any life-threatening wounds didn't mean that there weren't any. Several small bruises were beginning to form all over his torso, but Arthur's eyes were immediately drawn to the huge bruise on the center of Merlin's chest. It was big and black and blue and it seemed to be getting worse by the minute.

Arthur felt a twisting in his gut at the sight of the horrid bruise. It looked incredibly painful and combined with the cuts on his arms Arthur had no doubt that Merlin would be in agony when he woke up. Unconsciously Arthur's hands began turning into fists around the cloth of Merlin's shirt.

Suddenly there came a groan from somewhere behind Arthur and the prince jumped. But in the process of jumping his movement shook Merlin. The boy jerked awake and gasped in pain as the action moved all his various injuries.

"Merlin!" Arthur exclaimed in surprise. He quickly untangled his hand from the servant's shirt and moved back a bit. He glanced backwards and saw that Gwaine was quickly returning to consciousness as well. Arthur didn't take time to think about it meant that he hadn't even noticed or thought about the drunkard before now in his worry for Merlin.

Merlin looked at Arthur blearily, squinting as if he couldn't quite make him out. "Arthur? What-what happened?" he asked.

"I was going to ask you that," Arthur replied.

Gwaine groaned again from behind them. "Ugh, what have I been drinking?" the man asked. He, too, sat up and his gaze fixed on Merlin. Concern overcame his features. "Merlin, what happened to you, mate?" he scrambled up and knelt next to Merlin.

Merlin glanced down at himself and his eyes widened in shock as he took in all the damage. "I'm not entirely sure," he answered.

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><p>Merlin quickly pulled down his shirt, but not before he saw the great bruise covering his chest. He threw Arthur a sidelong glance, but he couldn't determine if the prince had seen anything that Merlin had purposely hidden from him. His whole body was littered with clues as to the secret life he led and Merlin was incredibly grateful that the bruise covered up the burn mask that he had no doubt Arthur would comment on if he saw. But that didn't mean that there hadn't been other, less visible but still noticeable scars that Arthur could've seen.<p>

But as Merlin became more and more lucid he started to become aware of the various aches and pains all over his body. As far as he could tell cuts and bruises were scattered all over him, but nothing was serious. The cuts would be, though, if they had been infected.

Merlin tried to think back to how he had gotten all these injuries and he was very surprised to find that he had no idea. Suddenly an image of him barreling into the spider sprung to life in his mind and Merlin realized what had happened. The throbbing bruises that covered him had to be from knocking into the spider that hard, after all, it had been hard enough to push it off of Arthur. And Merlin _had_ fought with the creature. Most likely the scratches came from the spider's spindly legs, which ended in sharp, painful tips. They must have dragged across his skin.

Of course, Merlin was just guessing since the only pain he could remember being in during the fight was emotional and magical. His drive to protect and save Arthur must have momentarily blocked out any physical pain. As it was now, though, everything hurt.

Merlin looked over at the dead body of the spider, of the creature that had tried to kill them all in the worst way possible. Merlin could think of no more horrible fate than to be crushed and consumed by one's own painful memories.

Merlin shuddered heavily and took a deep breath.

"What happened?" Gwaine asked again to no one in particular. "Last thing I remember I was laughing with Merlin and then I was seeing and thinking of things, things I don't really want to remember. Then I woke up to this. What did I miss?"

"I don't know," Arthur answered and automatically looked at Merlin, who still seemed rather disoriented and confused.

Merlin shifted and looked at the ground. "I was talking to Gwaine…and then everything around me changed, covered by a kind of mist. I couldn't see anything but the thick fog. Everything became very cold and I had trouble focusing. Then I…I started to remember some things. But I knew that something was wrong so I ran in the direction I had last seen you in, Arthur. I finally saw you, lying on the ground with that creature," Merlin nodded to the dead body, "on top of you. It-ah, it probably wasn't the wisest idea, but I ran into it, knocked it off of you."

Arthur raised an eyebrow in surprise and Merlin thought dimly that he looked a bit like Gaius when he did that.

"I fumbled around for something to defend myself with and I found your sword, Arthur. I'm not exactly sure what happened, but I began to hack away at it and I suppose when of the blows hit home. I killed it."

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><p>Arthur didn't say anything for a moment. The idea that Merlin had defeated such a fearsome creature all on his own, with a sword no less, and that he of all people had had enough presence of mind to realize that something was wrong didn't quite make sense to Arthur. Of course, some part of him was saying that Merlin was an idiot and that he couldn't kill a fly if he wanted to, let alone a monster. And yet another part of Arthur, the part that truly believed in Merlin in a way that the prince would never admit, actually found the story rather plausible.<p>

But fortunately Arthur was saved from responding as Gwaine did it for him. "Well, Merlin mate, we owe you our lives. Thank you." Merlin looked surprised and then ducked his head sheepishly.

It wasn't until that moment that Arthur realized that Merlin wasn't used to being thanked, period. The implications of that and what a life like that would be like hit Arthur and he felt a small part of him die.

Arthur looked down at the ground in what his pride wouldn't allow him to call shame—but that is what it was. Suddenly Arthur noticed his leg and any guilty thoughts were driven from his mind. "Merlin?" he asked, "what about my leg? The pant is torn and bloody, but there is no damage. And when I woke up you were unconscious but you seem fine now." He looked questioningly at Merlin.

Merlin seemed to falter for a moment, but then he answered. "When the spider was on you he stung you. There was some sort of venom on his stinger. But when I killed him I saw a black vapor rise up from your leg and disappear. When I went to inspect it the wound was completely gone. It was a creature of magic so I suppose that it makes sense that when it died so would its magic."

Arthur nodded his head in agreement. It did sort of make sense, even if there _was_ something off with Merlin's tale.

"And then," Merlin continued, "well, once I saw that you were all right, I…may have fainted."

Arthur snorted. _Typical Merlin, _Arthur thought.

"Come on, Arthur!" Merlin said defensively, "it's not every day that one fights a giant spider that can make you remember your worst memories! Besides, that thing nearly killed me, too."

Arthur sobered up a bit at that. It was true; they had all been very close to death and if it hadn't been for Merlin's presence of mind they all would be…Not to mention that Arthur had forgotten that Merlin had a few unpleasant memories of his own. In the back of his mind Arthur heard a whip crack and he inwardly shuddered. Merlin should never have to relive that. That had been one of the most painful memories that had claimed him while under the spider's influence and he hadn't even been the one who had suffered through the agony all those years ago.

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><p>"Don't listen to him, Merlin," Gwaine said, putting a hand on the boy's shoulder, "you saved our lives. Princess here is just grumbling 'cause he didn't get to claim the glory." Arthur scowled at the comment, but he wasn't really offended. "Now," the rogue said, his tone changing, "you probably got those cuts from the fight with that creature. We should clean them before they get serious."<p>

Gwaine started to get up but Merlin said, "No, Gwaine, I can do it myself. You just woke up."

"So did you, Merlin," Gwaine replied, "besides, it is incredibly hard to clean one's own wounds if they happen to be on the arms or back. It's the least I can do."

Gwaine got up and made his way to the horses, but everyone had to do a double-take when they saw the dead bodies of the poor creatures. They were lying unmoving on the ground. Merlin didn't know what had killed them—maybe it was the dark magic or something else—but the boy hoped that at least it had been quick. They had been faithful and loving animals.

Oddly enough it was this new tragedy that nearly brought tears to Merlin's eyes, though he knew it was probably mostly from the combined strain of everything that had happened. But he had grown fond of those horses and was becoming incredibly tired and sick of needless and innocent deaths, even that of horses.

Gwaine returned with the medicine bag that Merlin always brought with him because he knew that Gaius would kill him if he didn't, ironically enough. He knelt down and began cleaning Merlin's wounds, which stung badly. But he kept the pain in as he always did.

Merlin's eyes strayed to Arthur, who was currently inspecting the body of the spider, and he couldn't help but feel guilty for the lies that he had just told him. He hated having to lie to Arthur and every time he did it sent a spike of pain into his heart. But what scared him the most was how easy it was getting.

But what could he do? He could hardly have told Arthur that he had defeated the creature with magic and then had gone on to save his life. Either the prince would laugh and make fun of him or he would have believed him and would run him through on the spot.

Merlin would never regret saving Arthur, but there were times when he saw every occasion where he used his magic as another moment of his life that he would have to keep hidden from his best friend and the man whom he trusted more than anything.

Still though, it was much more preferable to letting him die.

Merlin thought back to when Arthur had still been unconscious and his life had been hanging in the balance. There had been a brief moment where he had thought that he wouldn't be able to save Arthur. Merlin had never come across a spell designed to counteract the poison of a spider that made you relive the worst memories of your life, and once he had felt the power of the venom and how close it was to taking Arthur forever Merlin had begun to panic that he would fail.

But then he had pushed the panic down and had started to work. But it hadn't been easy. The magic of the venom would react negatively to his magic and would lash out at Arthur and probably kill him if Merlin had just flooded Arthur's body with power right away. So Merlin had had to go in slowly and carefully isolate the poison from Arthur and then begin to destroy it. But it had taken a long time.

The process had been far too slow for Merlin's liking and had resulted in agonizing pain for both him and Arthur. But it had been the only way so Merlin had taken it. More than once; however, he had wanted to stop, to quit and only the thought of protecting Arthur had kept him going.

The pain of the magic, once isolated from Arthur, had turned on him with a vengeance and the pain had been incredible, unbearable. For nearly an hour Merlin had endured it so that he could complete everything and save Arthur.

And after all of that, after the fight and the mental and physical and magical attack, and then having to save Arthur in a way that took a ridiculous amount of strength and endurance, Merlin been exhausted, which was why he had collapsed. Unfortunately Arthur had woken up only a few minutes later and had disturbed Merlin's rest. What else was new?

Before he had passed out he should have cast a spell to ensure that Arthur would sleep a little longer, just as he had whenever Gwaine had begun to wake up during Arthur's healing. It wouldn't have been very good if Gwaine had woken up to see him doing magic.

By now Merlin was utterly exhausted, but as usual that didn't mean that he would get to rest. Merlin just hoped that there wouldn't be any attacks for a while.

Merlin hissed as Gwaine touched a particularly painful and deep wound on his leg and he broke out of his thoughts. "Sorry," the drunkard muttered.

"It's okay," Merlin said absent mindedly, "I've had worse."

"Oh yeah? Like what?" Gwaine asked as he bandaged up another cut.

Merlin turned to look at Arthur who was making his way towards them and was cleaning black blood off of his sword. "You don't want to know."

Gwaine locked eyes with him a moment, then looked away. "Yeah, you're probably right."

Arthur stopped in front of them, sheathing his sword. "We should move out as soon as we can. It will be dark in a few hours and we no longer have the horses, but unless anyone wants to sleep here tonight we should try to cover a little bit of ground before nightfall. I don't particularly want to go to sleep looking at that," he said, nodding at the spider carcass.

"Well, I'll be done fixing Merlin up in just a moment," Gwaine replied.

"Good, we can move out then." Arthur turned away, but then stopped himself. "Merlin…" he said slowly, "you did a good job defending us. You may have saved the quest." He clapped the servant on the shoulder. "I knew I brought you along for something."

"Prat," Gwaine said to Arthur's retreating form and Merlin nodded his head in agreement. But neither of them meant the insult for they both knew that that was Arthur's way of saying 'thank you'. The two friends shared a knowing smile. "Perhaps there's hope for the princess yet," Gwaine mumbled under his breath.

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><p>Well, maybe that answers a few minor questions or maybe it doesn't. The next chapter should have a few interesting things, including a Gwaine POV if everything works out. Now, there are a few things I want to ask you. I was thinking of changing the update day from Tuesday to either Wednesday or Friday because they would work out better for me, but I wanted to ask you all which one you would prefer or if you<em> really<em> think that Tuesday works best. Also, I have plans to start writing another short Merlin fic soon because I've been hit with some inspiration and I wanted to warn you that the next update or perhaps the one after that may be a bit late because of it.

What do you guys think? Please review and tell me your thoughts on both my questions and the chapter.


	6. Remember, Arthur

I sincerely apologize for the lateness of this chapter, but for a while I was contemplating cutting out a huge scene, and I wasn't really going to write more if I was going to end up deleting anyway. So that's why it took so long, that scene gave me a lot of trouble. Fortunately I found a way to make the scene work, which is good since I really didn't want to cut it out. Once again, I'm sorry for the delay, but hopefully things will be more on time from now on.

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><p>Gwaine was worried about Merlin. After he had bandaged up the boy's wounds all three of them had picked up everything they could carry since they no longer had horses and had gone in search of somewhere better to spend the night. A few hours later they had found a suitable clearing and had made camp. But the entire time they were trekking through the forest Merlin had looked exhausted, more than that; he had looked beaten, as if he had used up all his energy.<p>

Apparently Arthur had noticed this as well because he had said, "Gwaine and I will take the watch tonight, you just get some rest, Merlin."

Merlin had looked up sharply from where he had been dozing off standing up and looked guilty. "No, I can take a watch, Arthur; the two of you need your rest, too."

"Merlin, you could hardly stay awake for a single watch. You're exhausted. Gwaine and I can share the watches and make sure that some actual watching gets done, while in your case all you'd be doing is sleeping."

Merlin had acted like he was going to protest some more but Arthur had given him a stern look and he had shut his mouth, which was a testament as to exactly how tired he really was.

But, now, it was the next day and the sleep didn't seem to have done Merlin that much good. It was not even midday and Merlin already looked ready to drop.

As they were tramping along through the woods Gwaine had been keeping a careful eye on the manservant. The boy was hardly talking and the normally-present grin had disappeared from his face. Aside from the obvious exhaustion there were other signs as to Merlin's discomfort. His skin looked pale while his cheeks seemed flushed from exertion and a vivid bruise still stood out prominently on one of them. Gwaine didn't doubt that not only the black bruise on his chest but also the various deep cuts he had received would be throbbing in pain with every movement. Plus, Merlin's forehead was wrinkled slightly in a way that made Gwaine think he had a headache. Other than his forehead; however, Merlin showed no sign of pain and Gwaine had to admit that he was impressed.

"All right," Arthur, who had fallen a little bit behind the two of them, called, "let's stop and take a short break. We don't want to expend our energy this early in the day."

Gwaine couldn't help the knowing smile that appeared on his face. He knew the real reason behind Arthur's decision to stop and it wasn't his own exhaustion. It was Merlin's.

Merlin didn't so much as blink an eye at Arthur's announcement, but just slung his bags gently to the ground and then followed, not so gently.

Truthfully, Gwaine was still reeling from how Merlin had saved them. From what the manservant had said he and Arthur had passed out into their own little dream world, but Merlin himself had kept his wits about him. The boy had realized that something was wrong and had come to their aid quick enough to save them and had even managed to kill the spider. Against all odds, Merlin alone had saved them, and yet he wasn't even asking for any praise or recognition.

He hadn't known the boy very long and yet he had already seen the depth of his commitment and determination.

Gwaine rolled his shoulders to relieve some of the tension that was beginning to build up there. If he was being honest with himself he was still pretty shaken up about what had happened. It wasn't so much the attack from a deadly monster; it was more the fact that it would smother them by their own worst memories. Gwaine had a handful of those himself and he and Arthur had gotten very close to being killed by their painful pasts. His head ached in an odd way from the onslaught of memories and he was irritable and his emotions were all over the place. And if he felt this way he couldn't imagine what Merlin must have gone through, must be going through.

More than anything, though, Gwaine was actually angry that his friend had to suffer in silence and that his deeds were never properly recognized.

Briefly, Gwaine considered joining Merlin on the ground in an attempt not to fall asleep, but then he noticed Arthur moving a little ways away and he decided to have a little chat.

He walked over to Arthur and sent a look Merlin's way to be sure the manservant couldn't hear them then said simply, "Merlin looks half dead."

For a moment Gwaine could swear that he saw Arthur flinch, but then the prince carefully arranged his features and replied without looking at him, "Well, I don't know what we can do about it. We have to continue with the quest. Camelot has less than two weeks before it's destroyed and we still have no idea how close we are to finding the source of the storm."

Gwaine looked up at the sky. They were in completely unknown territory, which meant that they only knew where to go by following the thin stream of grey clouds that the destructive storm had left in its wake. From where they were they could easily make out the clouds, but they could not see where they ended. Arthur was right; they could either be very close to their goal or very far away. There was no way of telling. But despite the truth of Arthur's words Gwaine couldn't help the swell of anger that boiled up inside of him.

"So that's it?" he asked angrily, still trying to keep his voice down, though, so that Merlin wouldn't hear, "we just keep on going even though we have no idea what's wrong with Merlin? For all we know he could be dying because we're pushing him too hard! I thought he was your friend, but you seem to care as much about his pain as you do about that of one of the rabbits you hunt."

Gwaine saw anger flash in the prince's eyes but he was too mad himself to really care.

Arthur breathed in deeply, trying to reign in his temper. "You said it yourself, Gwaine, we don't know what's going on with Merlin, but we do know that very soon the whole of Camelot and the thousands of lives within it will be destroyed! The smallest hesitation, the tiniest of wrong choices could mean death for all of those people. I have sworn to protect Camelot with every last breath in my body. It's my home, the place that I love the most. I'm not about to jeopardize it for a faint possibility that something may be wrong with Merlin other than the obvious lack of intelligence."

Gwaine ignored the logic in Arthur's words and instead got angrier. "You know, I was starting to think that maybe you cared about Merlin, that he was your friend. But you don't care at all! You just keep going! The least you could do is ask him what's wrong, but apparently even that is too hard for you! He really is just a servant in your eyes, isn't he?"

Arthur's eyes hardened and a kind of power burned beneath them. This was the same kind of human power of strength and fury that perfectly and oppositely matched Merlin's magic. The two of them were both powerful in their own ways and together they made an unbeatable force; something that they would learn in years to come.

Arthur turned to Gwaine and fully looked at him for the first time in the conversation. "And exactly how long have you known Merlin, Gwaine?" Arthur asked indignantly. His voice was lowered a bit even though Gwaine had completely given up on that pursuit. "You have known him for only a few months and you've only seen him a few times within those months. Whereas I have known him for nearly four years and there's hardly been a day that entire time that I haven't seen him. Don't you _dare_ imply that you know more about him than me. You don't know Merlin…and you don't know me. In all the time that I've known him we've faced countless monsters together and he has come out of it unscathed. Merlin has perhaps the best luck out of anyone I know."

Arthur took a step closer to Gwaine. "Merlin has a big heart and I know for a fact that he wouldn't want _anything_ to jeopardize Camelot's survival. You don't have anyone in Camelot, there's no one there that you love. Merlin and I have friends and family there, it is our home. We will lose everything if Camelot falls, whereas you will only have fewer taverns to go to."

"You're just assuming all that!" Gwaine accused. "Did Merlin ever say that he was willing to let this quest kill him?"

"What would you have me do then, Gwaine? Neither of us knows enough about medicine to be of any use if something strange really is affecting him, which I doubt since I checked him over and none of his injuries are life-threatening. He's fine, _you're_ just overreacting."

Gwaine fumed. If he wasn't careful he was going to end up punching Arthur and some part in the back of his brain didn't want that. Gwaine knew that he wasn't thinking rationally and that he was blowing things _way_ out of proportion. For one, Merlin _did_ look tired and a little bit ill, but he didn't look like he was dying, and yet somehow _he_ was acting like the servant was. And hadn't he just the other day decided that Arthur wasn't so bad after all and that he'd give him a chance?

Gwaine's brain understood that he was overreacting just like Arthur had said, but somehow the logic wasn't helping the burning anger he could feel churning inside him. This _had_ to be from the attack on his mind yesterday, why else would he be so irrational?

Gwaine pinched the bridge of his nose and tried to calm down and listen to reason. He turned to look at Merlin, hoping to convince himself that there was nothing to get worked up over, but when he did so his eyes were met with an empty clearing. Gwaine started, and searched with his eyes in seconds where Merlin had been mere moments ago. Arthur seemed to have turned around at the same time he did for the prince dashed into the clearing to the spot where Merlin had been sitting and seemed to be looking for any signs of struggle.

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><p>"He walked off on his own," Arthur called to Gwaine, who was already searching the tree line for any evidence of him.<p>

"Well, then, he can't have gone too far," Gwaine answered, trying to quell the panic bubbling up inside him. "MERLIN!" he yelled. "MERLIN!

Arthur began taking up the call too as they both tried to decide which way he went. It wasn't until the fifth shout that they heard a distant and quiet response.

"Over here," came Merlin's voice to their right and, with swords drawn just in case, they picked their way through the trees. It wasn't long before they saw Merlin, who had his back towards them. He seemed perfectly all right, yet he hadn't turned to look at them. It seemed as though he was staring at something.

"Merlin?" Arthur asked tentatively. Considering what had just happened yesterday neither man was willing to take it on faith that all of them, especially Merlin, were out of danger.

Suddenly, as they came closer to Merlin they saw what he was staring at. Arthur and Gwaine gasped in awe. It was white and beautiful and pure and the air around it seemed to glow. Arthur had seen one once before, but unlike the first time he was completely speechless. He no longer saw this beautiful creature as prey, but as something so much more.

Standing about five or six feet away from Merlin was a unicorn and its eyes seemed just as fixed on the manservant as his were on the creature. Briefly the magical beast whose presence had paralyzed both Arthur and Gwaine with awe spared them a glance, but then quickly turned its gaze back to Merlin.

If Arthur didn't know any better he would say that the look in the unicorn's eyes when it stared at Merlin was almost a perfect mirror image of how everyone else was look at it. In a strange way the creature seemed almost awed as it slowly began walking forward, step by step. From what little Arthur could see of Merlin's face he could tell that the boy was just as captivated by the unicorn's presence.

As the harmless beast that Arthur had seen and even killed long ago drew closer and closer to Merlin the manservant, just as slowly, reached out his hand and extended it to the unicorn. Arthur and Gwaine watched with baited breath.

Eventually the unicorn was right in front of Merlin and it slowly and deliberately inclined its head towards his hand until the appendage was resting against its fur. Merlin looked utterly shocked and gazed into the creature's eyes and Arthur could swear that he caught a plea for acceptance in the magical horse's blue orbs. Merlin broke the gaze and then began to gently rub and scratch the unicorn where his hand rested, which was on the large part of its long face between its ear and nose. And as soon as Merlin began the scratching the unicorn closed its eyes and leaned into the touch.

Arthur saw all the hesitance and caution melt away from Merlin's face as the brought up his other hand to pet the unicorn's neck. A big grin split the boy's face and Merlin seemed lost in his own world, captured by the unicorn's magic. Yes, magic, there was no other word for the beauty and power that seemed to radiate from it.

Arthur almost felt like he was in a dream and so he wasn't surprised when he heard Anhora's words in his mind. _"A unicorn is pure and unblemished; there is no evil in a unicorn's heart. If a unicorn allows you to see it then that is a great gift. But if a unicorn seeks someone out and allows him to touch it then that is a sign of the highest honor. Those who touch a unicorn are those who possess purity of heart beyond imagining. To a unicorn any other creature is foul in comparison, but it only seeks out those who are as pure as it. Merlin has the innocence of a child, the wisdom of an old man, the pain of a thousand lifetimes and yet never-ceasing love. Remember this, Arthur Pendragon, one with the purity of a unicorn serves you and he does not do so without reason. Purity is measured not by one's proximity to evil, but by how resistant one is to even the most evil of touches. And evil has tried many times to ensnare Merlin, but he had not given way to it. Do not take Merlin's devotion lightly, prince, for it is a sign of great honor."_

"Maybe you're right," Gwaine, who was at his side, said, keeping his eyes locked on Merlin. "Maybe neither of us really know Merlin."

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><p>Merlin felt rejuvenated. Even after a decent night's sleep Merlin had still felt sick from the spider's magic and his own memories, which were still fighting to be set free. Merlin had had the distinct feeling that the spider's magic was something that left a nasty aftertaste for days later. There was evidence enough of that from Gwaine's behavior. More than once Merlin had witnessed odd mood swings and changes come from the usually charming man and he could see that at the very least he felt uncomfortable.<p>

In fact, the only member of their group who didn't seem to be still suffering from the attack on their body and minds was Arthur, which was strange. Out of anyone Merlin would guess that Arthur would have the biggest temper swings, but he wasn't, though, Merlin bet he knew why.

Merlin had practically flooded Arthur's body with his magic in an attempt to cleanse him of anything harmful. The manservant had been incredibly connected to his prince during the healing and had felt what he had felt and had even tried to shield Arthur from the bad stuff, even if it meant his own suffering. Merlin had felt Arthur's pain, but he had also felt his body's acceptance of his magic.

To a body that had nearly been consumed with evil magic, Merlin's magic must have felt like a warm bath after years of being cold and dirty. And so that warm and fuzzy feeling Arthur had gotten from Merlin's healing must be what was causing his good mood and low temper.

Unfortunately, that was all well and good for Arthur, but Merlin himself had still felt exhausted and gross from the evil magic. In fact, Merlin had been surprised that he wasn't suffering more from the spider's magic than he was. Normally, magic as foul as that would be like a poison to his system, even without the venom, Merlin had wondered why he wasn't in a lot more pain than just a bad headache from it. Then again, that combined with the pain of his multiple wounds was more than enough. Honestly, Merlin hadn't been sure how much longer he would be able to handle, the pain was too much.

Of course, he had had worse, but this pain was the exhausting kind, the kind that seemed to take all your energy away and leave you breathless, not to mention the fact that the cuts and bruises hurt excruciatingly when he moved. This meant that all he had wanted to do was lie down and never move again, and the only thing that had kept him mobile was the importance of their quest.

But then, not long after their tiny group had stopped for a rest, which Merlin had been very grateful for, Merlin had felt something, something comforting. He had looked off into the trees and he had seen a white glow that he knew instinctively was anything but evil. He had gone towards it, wondering what it might be, and had soon come across something he hadn't seen in years.

Just like before, seeing the unicorn had been awe-inspiring and a truly magical experience. Just looking at it alone had been enough, but then the creature had gone up to him and had touched him. In that single instant when he had been touched Merlin felt safe again, and it wasn't just the magic from the unicorn that was causing it. The first time he had seen one had been during his first year in Camelot, a year when his and Arthur's relationship was still growing and molding into what it would be, and the whole journey that Arthur had gone through, showing kindness and even trying to give his life for his servant, had proved to Merlin more than ever that he was right to protect Arthur. One day Arthur _would_ bring peace and magic and life to Albion and he _would_ become the king that he was meant to be.

Even back then that had given Merlin so much hope and now, being reminded of that, of a time when things were simpler, he was filled with warmth.

And Merlin could tell that the others were more relaxed now, too. Though, Arthur and Gwaine still seemed a little cold towards each other.

It had now been a full two days since the spider incident and Merlin was not only sparkling with life in a way he hadn't for a long while, but he was also hoping that soon they would find what they were looking for. Or at least see _some_ signs of civilization. Even though these woods looked like Camelot's they really weren't and they had no idea if they would ever come across actual people. But if the rumors Gaius had told him were true then they should see people eventually.

Merlin sped up slightly and appeared at Arthur's side. "How much longer do you think before we find whatever it is that's causing the storm?" he asked.

"I don't know, Merlin," Arthur answered, sounding exasperated, but Merlin could tell that he was just pretending. "If I could see the future then we probably would have gone on the quest long ago, _before_ Camelot was in any danger. But as it is we can only hope that we'll reach it soon. We have about a week before Camelot falls, and so we cannot afford to waste any time asking pointless questions." Merlin caught the pointed, yet slightly amused look that Arthur threw, what he didn't catch; however, was the somewhat angry look Gwaine sent Arthur's way.

"Well, it's not like you're making any interesting conversation. What else is there for me to do?" Merlin asked.

"Shut up?" Arthur supplied.

Scowling Merlin fell back once more. Apparently Arthur was in a good enough mood to insult him. What else was new? Though Merlin really hadn't enjoyed his encounter with the spider, he had to say that it was almost worth it just to see the concern in Arthur's eyes and to be treated more like a friend and less like a servant. That was not to say that Merlin didn't enjoy his and Arthur's banter, there were just sometimes that he wished the prince would reveal his emotions more.

Merlin's nose twitched. There was a funny scent in the air. It got stronger and stronger as they walked, though Merlin still couldn't tell what it was. Merlin stumbled slightly because of his natural clumsiness and he decided that watching where he was going would be a smart idea. But as he looked down at his feet he noticed a big change in lighting, it was almost as if a large and dark cloud had gone in front of the sun. Surprised, Merlin glanced up and, to his horror, he saw what could only be described as black light spreading along the sky, though how such a thing was possible he had no idea.

Suddenly, he felt his magic surge to life in anger and self-defense and Merlin stumbled and fell to the ground on his hands and knees with the pure strength it took for him to reel it back. There was something nearby that his magic didn't like and after everything that had already happened it was desperate to fight back.

"Merlin, mate, are you all right?" Gwaine asked and Merlin realized that both he and Arthur had noticed his fall.

"Did you stumble over your own feet again?" Arthur asked snobbishly, but Merlin looked up and saw concern in his eyes. Merlin took it back, he didn't want Arthur to be worried about him, no matter nice it was to be cared about. He had learned that worry was a pain all of its own.

Merlin gazed up at the sky, upon which the blackness was quickly encroaching, and said, "That can't be good." Way to state the obvious.

Arthur and Gwaine glanced up, too. "What on earth—" he began but he was cut off as suddenly a scream echoed in the distance.

Arthur pulled Merlin to his feet and the two of them looked at each other and then broke into a dead run towards the sound. Someone was in trouble.

The closer and closer they got to the noise the darker and darker the forest around them became. Soon everything looked like night. The smell became stronger, too, to the point where Merlin could distinguish it. The air smelled like mud, rotting flesh, blood, and sickness. It was the smell of death and Merlin, Arthur, and Gwaine were running straight towards it.

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><p>So, there you have it. I like to think that I had some very interesting things in this chapter. Gwaine POV, an argument, the whole thing with the unicorn, and then the little surprise at the end. Yes! There's going to be some more action in the next chapter. Now, I realize that some people may have thought that that scene with the unicorn was a little weird, but it was my way of paying homage to another scene in a different fic. Of course, that fic had a deer and I changed things 'round a bit, but I really liked this idea. I wanted Arthur to see that Merlin was so innocent and kind that animals weren't afraid of him.<p>

Anyway, I really hope that you enjoyed this chapter. I plan on updating every Wednesday if I can; however, since this was rather late the next may be also. But if you all could be nice and review I may be able to get it up on time since reviews do incredible things for my motivation. Oh, and for those of you who are reading my _"Observing Merlin"_ fic, I plan on updating that very soon. I already have a huge chunk written and with any luck I'll be able to finish it soon.


	7. How Far Can You Run?

Again, I apologize for the lateness, but I updated too late last time, and I knew that if was going to have a regular updating schedule I'd have to wait for the next Wednesday. Anyway, there is a lot of action in this chapter and a fair amount of whump, so take that as a peace offering. I want to thank everyone who has reviewed again, you guys rock.

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><p>Merlin ran, the sickly smell burning his nose the closer he got to the scream they had heard. Already his chest hurt as the suffocating bruise began to tighten and weigh heavily upon his lungs so that he had trouble breathing. The cuts on his arms and legs were stretching and burning and Merlin found himself beginning to already tire from the pain of it all. But he kept on going; stopping never even once crossed his mind.<p>

Suddenly Merlin could see through some gaps in the trees that the forest cut off abruptly and there was a very large clearing with something in it. That something was a town.

The three friends broke through the trees, panting. They hadn't been running all that far, but they had sprinted off at full speed. They stared at the small village, which was lighten up only by the eerie green light that was all the bright sun up above managed to send them through the black web, and for a second they were amazed. They had only faintly hoped that they might find people here on the other side of the Border, but now here was a whole town, and where there was one town there was bound to be plenty more.

But standing in the middle of the village square were perhaps a dozen people, yet none of them were moving. There were men, women, and children. Some of them were carrying things, like baskets or bags of flour; others were in the process of bending down or standing up. Some even had one foot raised in the air.

All of them seemed to be frozen, like statues. The three men walked up to them, looking them over, seeing if they were alive.

Merlin stared up into the eyes of a tall man and he realized that they weren't like statues after all; they were like prey, frozen in fear. Though the man himself wasn't moving; his eyes were darting back and forth, panicked. Sweat was gathering on his forehead and his whole body was shaking in fear. And Merlin got the distinct impression that he was trying to warn him, get him to leave.

Merlin touched the man's arm and it felt real, if a bit cold, and tried to move it. But even though it was ordinary human flesh, it was as impossible to move as stone.

"Why can't they move?" Arthur, who was across the village square, yelled. "What's going on?"

Merlin's blood was pumping and his heart racing and he had to struggle to keep his magic from lashing out at the dark magic that was blanketing this place. Merlin knew that something bad was approaching and that they were all in danger. And Arthur knew it, too.

The three of them rapidly checked other people, trying to get them to move, but it was no use, and with every second they wasted Merlin felt his heart beat faster and the danger get closer.

"Get out of here!" All three heads turned sharply to where the voice had come from. It was a woman whose head could barely be seen poking through a door of a house to their left. Her eyes were filled with fear and her voice held a sense of urgency. And Merlin could tell that she wanted desperately to disappear back into the house. "Leave! Run while you still can!" she hissed.

Arthur began charging forward. "What's going on here? What's wrong with these people?" Arthur's voice wasn't harsh, but it was stern. The prince had good instincts and he knew perfectly well that something was wrong.

"Get out of here!" the woman repeated as she vanished slightly into the shadows of her house, "You can't do anything for them. No one can. Run! Hide! Before it comes!" And with that she slammed shut the door of her house and Merlin heard the ring of a bolt being drawn.

Merlin sent a look at Arthur and the two of them agreed. Though Merlin's magic wanted nothing more than to get away from here or kill whatever it is that was causing all of this, Merlin knew that they wouldn't be going anywhere. Arthur's instincts were screaming at him to run, but people were in danger and he would stand his ground. Either each and every one of these unmoving people would be getting out of here or no one would.

Suddenly the already horrible smell got worse to the point of gaging and Merlin stumbled to the ground again. It felt like he had been punched in the stomach and all the air had been driven from his lungs.

Gwaine was by his side again, "Merlin?" he asked, obviously inquiring what was wrong.

"It's here," Merlin rasped as he tried to draw in breath. The combination of evil magic hitting him and having to restrain his own magic had nearly knocked him unconscious.

And then ear-shattering screech suddenly filled the air and everyone who was able covered their ears in an attempt to block the terrible noise. Merlin's head whipped to the side and his eyes widened as he saw it. A great, hulking wolf standing on its hind legs, at least nine feet tall, with eyes that were glowing red. It seemed to exhale black air and the green light around it seemed fuzzy and hazy, as if light couldn't really touch it.

It was standing just outside of the village square, among the houses, and it seemed to be staring at them, waiting. Abruptly a wave of cold air blasted them, but it wasn't just cold. Being around that great spider just a few days ago had caused the temperature to drop, but this…this was absolute freezing. Merlin watched as icicles began to form, hanging off of the roofs of the houses, and he saw ice begin to spread slowly along the ground. Merlin couldn't help the shiver that overcame him, both from the cold and the _wrongness_ of it all, but he wished that he could've.

When Merlin shuddered violently it seemed to be the reaction—the movement—that the creature was looking for. Its head twitched upwards and it grunted. Then it reared back on its hind legs and let out another ground-shaking shriek. It crouched low than sprang forward, leaping towards them.

For a millisecond Merlin watched the thing charge and then he felt a hand in his own, pulling him to his feet. The hand continued pulling and Merlin ran with it, but when he looked over he realized that the appendage did not belong to either Gwaine or Arthur, but rather to a woman with long, shiny hair. It looked an awful lot like the woman who had warned them to run.

Merlin frantically glanced to the right as he dashed around a small house and he caught sight of both Arthur and Gwaine following them. At least they were all right, for now. Merlin was running as fast as he could, considering the circumstances, but the hand in his own both helping and hindering him. Sometimes the woman would turn a sharp corner and Merlin would have to struggle to keep himself from stumbling or lagging behind too much.

Despite his normal clumsiness, which was never really present in dangerous circumstances, he could run incredibly fast. He was tall, light and thin, and he had years of practice on how to faster than his prey or predator. In fact, Merlin wasn't even running as hard as he could, for he knew that the woman, who no doubt had never had to run for her life before, would be unable to keep up with him if he did. But still, she was pretty quick and Merlin hoped that maybe they were just swift enough. He glance behind him in an attempt to see if they had lost the creature, and was scared when he realized that not only was it still chasing them, but it was catching up on Arthur and Gwaine. But despite the rate at which it was gaining, Merlin could tell that it wasn't even running as fast as it could. Apparently it enjoyed the chase; it was playing with them.

Suddenly the woman turned abruptly once more, but this time Merlin hadn't been watching and he fell, his shoulder coming into contact with the side of a house hard and his face smacking into the ground. Normally the adrenaline would negate any clumsiness, but in this case clumsiness wasn't the culprit. The brief two second hesitation as to whether or not he should go back and help Arthur has caused his collision.

On the ground, Merlin groaned in pain. His shoulder was dislocated, which he knew because this wasn't the first time he had experienced the pain of having his arm ripped out of its socket. It had happened plenty of times during his various attempts to save Arthur and basically everyone in Camelot. Sometimes it came from a chase or from a fight, and one time it had even happened because one of his enemies hadn't been too kind when jerking him around as they led him someplace.

The first two times it had happened Merlin had gone to Gaius to help him relocate it, but after that he had picked up on the idea and had done it himself, at least that way no one would hear his screams. Relocating a shoulder is almost as painful as the original injury, and sometimes worse because you know it's coming.

Merlin tried to push himself off the ground with his left arm, since his right really wasn't working at the moment, but then the woman grabbed his injured arm in an attempt to pull him up and he let out a loud cry of pain. It took her a moment but then she seemed to realize what was wrong and helped him up more gently, though, with just as much haste.

As Merlin got to his feet, he looked back and what he saw frightened him more than he had been so far today. The creature was getting ever nearer, because apparently the few seconds that Merlin had spent on the ground had been more than enough for it to come much closer, but that wasn't even the scariest part. No, the most terrifying thing was that both Arthur and Gwaine weren't moving. They were standing still as a statue and their eyes were darting back and forth. Arthur was in the midst of drawing his sword while Gwaine seemed like he had been turning around to face the thing, though, it was now right next to him.

Merlin stared in sheer terror. The creature was right beside Arthur, sniffing him, and the prince couldn't move a muscle in defense. If the beast decided to attack him now Merlin's magic may not reach him in time. But after a second or two of sniffing, the giant wolf turned its huge snout toward Merlin and growled. And for the merest moment Merlin thought he saw the _thing_ grin at him. Then it crouched down and sprang forward once more, apparently deciding that it wanted the still-moving meal.

Though Merlin wanted to go back to Arthur, to stand front of him and protect him with his life, he knew that the safest thing for Arthur right now would be for him to run as far away from him as he could. Especially if he had to do magic.

The woman grabbed his other hand, which was the only thing that stopped him from slipping on the ice that had begun to creep under their feet, and they started off again. They darted around a few more houses, Merlin truly racing now that he was actually saving Arthur by running, but then suddenly he felt his good arm get jerked backwards, nearly pulling that shoulder out of its socket, too.

The woman's hand had left his. He stopped and spun around.

There, behind him, the strange woman had begun to freeze, too. Merlin watched as like a wave the paralysis flowed up her body. Her legs were already stiff and unmoving, caught in the action of running, while slowly the upper half of her body began to still. Her outstretched fingers curled slightly and then stopped.

"Run!" she yelled, right before her mouth was claimed by the magical stillness.

Merlin stared, transfixed in horror. This woman had been running with him mere seconds ago. Images of Freya, his father, Gaius, and even Arthur flashed through his mind. On far too many occasions he had watched as the people he loved stopped moving and never moved again.

He looked down at himself. "Why can I still move?" he asked questioningly to no one in particular. He should move, he should run, he knew, but he didn't want to leave her to the wolf. There was no guarantee that he would pass her by if he left.

Then Merlin heard a snort. He slowly turned and looked at the beast; it was perhaps ten feet away. The creature was panting, and, if Merlin wasn't mistaken, laughing. It began to slowly step forward, gradually closing the distance between predator and prey.

Merlin gasped and stumbled back as he heard the wolf's voice in his head. "Where are you going, Emrys?" Its voice was cruel and dripping with sadistic pleasure. "Did you honestly think you could escape from me? I am just one of the many manifestations of death, and I have been chasing you for a long while. And you keep on running, but there's nowhere far enough. Did you really believe that you could out-run death, that you could continue exchanging lives and helping your idiot prince to cheat death, too? Death has been following you your whole life, and sooner or later it will catch you and everyone you love."

Merlin stumbled again; he could feel the beast's glee and cruel joy resonating through his head.

"Because the truth is you can't; you can't save your prince from everything, and one day he will die." It chuckled. "Maybe that day is today, but not before I end your miserable existence." The creature was much closer now and Merlin was fighting hard to overcome the nausea in his stomach from the revolting smell and he could feel his body begin to slow and shut down from the cold. "After all," the wolf continued, "you can't possibly be happy. There are always more people who need to be saved and worse; more people who hate you and what you are. You've already suffered so much, and you will keep on suffering, right 'til the end.

"You're tired, and every time you have to watch the people you love die you become even more tired. Because you know that it will never be enough. This world is beyond saving. There is no such thing as Albion or the golden world you think that that spineless prince will create. There is only hate and pain and vengeance and death, and the sooner you accept that, the sooner you can just give up and die. Because he will _never _accept you for what you are. If he ever finds out he will kill you himself and he won't even care. He's not worth fighting for, Merlin, no one is."

Merlin was backed up against a house by now, and in that respect the creature was right. He had nowhere to run. His head pounded and hurt with physical and emotional pain at the wolf's words and he wanted to block out the voice in his head more than anything, but it was just _so_ loud. Many of the things it was saying were true, or partly true, and it stung badly. But when he heard the thing's last words he knew that they were pure lies and his anger spiked and so did his magic.

He straightened up, staring at its red, evil eyes. "You're wrong," he said, glowering at it. "There are plenty of people worth fighting for. Arthur is one of them. But there are also things worth fighting _against_, and that's you." Merlin's eyes flashed and the creature flew backwards in the air, landing hard on the ground. Unfortunately, Merlin knew that it was far from dead.

Merlin searched his memory frantically as the beast began to get up, there had to be a way of stopping it. Most magical creatures he had faced required something exact to kill it, and why would this thing be any different? Perhaps he had come across something in one of Gaius' books that held the answer, but he didn't think so.

It was on its feet now. "I will kill you today, Emrys, and I will remember the taste of your blood forever and know that you couldn't escape me. And then, when I've picked your bones clean, I will kill Arthur. Slowly."

Then suddenly Merlin realized it. Everything has a weakness, and that weakness is usually related to its greatest strength. It used magic to block out the sun, it used cold and ice as yet another means of stopping its victims. This creature's magic was in some ways the opposite of that great spider's magic. That creature fed off of pain and fear and emotions, while this thing needed its prey to be unable to move, needed it to be sick and weak and for all light to be gone. Hence the cold.

The wolf reared up on its hind legs once more and then charged forward this time on all fours. Merlin knew he had seconds before he was ripped to shreds. What is the opposite of cold and weak?

The creature knocked into Merlin, sending him tumbling to the ground with the beast on top of him. The monster grinned and then bit down hard on his good arm. Merlin cried out as he felt his flesh being torn and ripped away viciously. With a brief glow of his eyes he sent the creature off of him, much like he had with the spider before, and then pulled himself to his feet.

The wolf hadn't even been winded this time and was already sprinting towards him, the bloodlust clear in its eyes. Merlin threw out his hand, not caring about the pain in his bloodied arm, and pictured in his mind a perfect image, even imagining its heat. "Oynnestre æledléoma líf hælþ!" he yelled loudly, finally releasing his magic the way it had been begging him to. Blue and red and white flames shot out of his hand and straight at the monster's chest.

The creature stopped in its tracks and its head reared back as it roared in pain and then it fell to the ground, the fire consuming it.

Abruptly Merlin felt the cold recede and found that the smell was fading away and light was returning. He looked down at the beast. It was nothing more than a smoldering carcass, with a few orange flames still licking at it. It was definitely and without a doubt dead.

Merlin tried to take a step forward but unexpectedly he wobbled and fell to the ground in a heap. He attempted to push himself back up again, but found that he couldn't. There was an odd and loud ringing in his ears and his head was pounding and for the first time he became aware of the warm wetness pooling out of his arm and the other various aches and pains in his body. His shoulder was in agony, screaming even without being moved and his chest was constricting far too much to be healthy.

He knew that he was close to passing out, but instead of giving in he held on to consciousness. He had no idea how Arthur was or even where he was, he had to check on him. But no matter how hard he tried to get up, Merlin could hardly push himself so much as an inch off of the ground.

After failing on his fifth try he felt a warm and comforting hand on his back. "Merlin? Merlin, what's wrong?" It was that woman's voice again, she sounded very concerned.

Suddenly Merlin heard a yell not too far off in the distance. "Merlin! Merlin, you idiot, where are you?" This time it was most definitely Arthur, and he sounded both mad and worried, which were two emotions only he could pull off at once.

When Merlin began to lift up his head to answer Arthur, because he always answered Arthur, the beating in his head increased tenfold and the pain from everywhere else seemed to attack him with renewed viciousness. He tried saying something, but he couldn't even get out one word before his face fell back into the dirty ground.

"He's over here!" the woman yelled. Merlin heard the sound of running footsteps and another hand was placed on his back.

"Merlin? Merlin, are you okay?" Again, Arthur, and he was without a doubt worried. "What happened?" he demanded.

"I'm not sure," the woman answered, "but he killed it, he killed the wolf. He saved us, but I think it hurt him in the process."

Arthur made a sound that Merlin wasn't sure if it was a growl or a curse.

"Come on," the woman continued, "help me get him back to my house. I can patch him up there." Merlin felt her hand shift to his head. "Merlin? We're going to move you, okay?"

Merlin wanted to answer that that wasn't okay since it would undoubtedly make the pain worse, which wasn't something he was sure he could handle right now. But, unfortunately, Merlin didn't even have the energy to speak at the moment.

Two sets of hands gripped his shoulders, making his bad one scream in protest and weakening Merlin's hold on consciousness, and they slowly rolled him over onto his back. That alone was excruciating.

Merlin forced his eye lids open and he gazed blearily up at Arthur, who somehow was managing to look both exasperated and scared at the same time, and he quickly searched him for injuries. Despite all that had transpired, Arthur didn't have a scratch on him, and Merlin relaxed, letting his eyes drift close again. It was far too much work to keep them open.

Then Merlin felt two strong pairs of hands lift him up and they began to carry him. Though they were obviously being as careful and gentle as they could, the trip was still agonizing for him. Eventually he heard the creak of a door and felt himself be placed on a table and he had to fight even harder to stay awake when the movement jostled his shoulder.

"You," the woman said, "take this bucket and fill it with water from the well outside. I'm going to need it for his wounds." The sound of someone leaving. "You're Arthur, right?" she asked.

"Yes," Arthur replied, though his tone was a distracted one.

"Well, then," the woman said authoritatively, "help me cut Merlin's shirt off, I need to take a look at all the damage."

Merlin wanted to object, saying that he really didn't have all that many shirts, but again, he was already so tired and in so much pain, it just wasn't worth it. He felt them peel off his shirt and jacket and then heard both Arthur and the woman gasp.

"Where did he get all these wounds? Some of these are days old. Very few of them on their own are very painful, but together…" she trailed off. Just then a door banged open. "Good, put the water to boil over the fire, and stoke it while you're at it. He's freezing."

Merlin assumed she said all this to Gwaine, though, to be honest he was having a little trouble hearing. It was like his ears were under water.

"What happened to his arm?" Merlin heard Arthur ask, and once again he found that there was a confusing mix of emotions in his voice.

"The creature bit it, and by the looks of things pretty hardly, too," the woman replied. Her voice seemed farther away, as if she was across the room.

"And his shoulder?" Arthur inquired.

"Dislocated." The woman was back beside him now and she seemed to be inspecting the bite. Then Merlin heard the slosh of water and footsteps. "All right, then," she continued, "give me some space, I need room to work."

Merlin just barely clung on to consciousness for the next half an hour all while she cleaned his bite wound and put some sort of salve on his cuts and bruises, some of which he could tell were new. At one point she had put something sticky on the wound that Merlin realized had to be honey to stave off infection, and then she bandaged it up. Then came the part he had been dreading, the part that would be the most painful.

"I wish I didn't have to do this," the woman said with true regret in her voice, "but I'm going to have to relocate your shoulder now, Merlin. I'm sorry, but it's going to hurt a lot. Arthur, Gwaine, I need you to brace him and hold him down. On three, one two…"

Merlin didn't have time to wonder when she had learned Gwaine's name before his shoulder was jerked back into its socket and a horrendous pain blossomed there. The agony was incredible, like a torturous flame. Merlin tried to hang on, but he simply couldn't any longer. And for the second time since beginning this quest Merlin blacked out. At least he was no longer in pain.

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><p>Wow, not a single POV change in the entire chapter, that's definitely not something I've done in a while. Anywho, I hope you like and please remember to review. I gave you all a lot of things in this chapter, and at least one hint of something that's coming in the future. In fact, I think I'm about halfway through this story. I know, fewer chapters than the last one, but I found that the last story went on and on, which is something of a habit of mine. (: But this story is jammed full of stuff and nothing is without meaning, so I don't really need as many chapters. Ooh, and I just got into the TV show Supernatural, which has got more bromance in it than I know what to do with. Personally, I think that it's pretty freaking amazing that I'm even posting this right now, <em>that's<em> how bad my addiction is.


	8. The Reign of Terror

I'm am so, so, soooooo sorry for the wait. But this chapter was really difficult to write and I am still pretty unsatisfied with how this it turned out, but here it is. Hopefully from here on out things will go smoothly, but I doubt it. My life is weird and wacko. Anyway, with any luck you guys will still enjoy it.

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><p>Merlin's first sensation was that he was exhausted. Not just exhausted in the moment, but tired of constantly being knocked out or poisoned or injured. But just because he was tired didn't mean he was going to stop. This was his job, his destiny, and Arthur would be lost without him.<p>

Suddenly Merlin jerked fully awake, ignoring the intense pain burning practically everywhere in his body as he thought about one thing. Where was Arthur?

"Whoa, whoa. Take it easy. You're all right…or rather, you will be," A voice from somewhere to his left said.

Merlin turned his head sharply at the noise and his stiff neck cricked in protest. That alone was enough to tell Merlin that he had been out for several hours at least. To his left he saw a blond haired woman sitting on a neatly crafted wooden chair and she seemed to be bending over a spinning wheel, which she was making whirl.

Merlin was already more than just alert. Worry and adrenaline was pumping through his veins and because of this he found the sight of a woman spinning rather odd. He had expected to be lying on the ground with Arthur no doubt in life-threatening danger nearby. At best he had been expecting to wake up again in a woody clearing with a concerned Gwaine and an annoyed Arthur standing over him and telling him that they had to keep moving. But he really didn't expect to see something as mundane as spinning.

The woman must have caught the look he sent her because she said, "What? Medicine is just as much an art of the hands as spinning is. I can use my hands to tie bandages or to spin thread that will go into making warm clothes for a harsh winter. Everything has its purpose and everything helps. I'm a healer at heart, as I can tell you are as well. Even more than me. And your hands, well, your hands can heal far more than I can."

Merlin stared at her questioningly, but then pushed what she had said out of his mind. He had more pressing matters. "Where is Arthur? Is he all right?" he asked, beginning to push himself out of the bed he was apparently in.

The woman got up and leaned down to put a staying hand on his shoulder. "Don't worry," she said, and this time her voice wasn't that of a strange mystery woman, but more that of someone with a sweet heart. In truth, the kindness in her voice reminded Merlin of Gwen or Freya. "Prince Arthur is fine. More than that, I don't think he has a single scratch on him. You can relax."

Merlin exhaled in relief. His muscles loosened up as he calmed down. But as his racing thoughts returned to a normal, less scared-for-his-prat-of-a-prince pace he became aware of _just_ how much pain he was in. With a groan his head fell backwards onto a soft pillow as it began to pound viciously.

"Yeah, I bet," the woman said, obviously noticing his pain. "How do you feel?" she asked and Merlin could clearly hear the concern and kindness in her voice.

He lifted himself up again and leaned against the wall his bed was pushed beside. "Like something tried to kill me," he answered. He tried to lift up his right hand to hold his pounding head, but dull bolts of pain that seemed to stretch and pull at his muscles originated from his shoulder when he did. He quickly gave up on that arm, deciding to let it flop and hang lifelessly since it seemed so good at it, and then tried the same thing with his other arm. But the pain that he felt lancing across his forearm when he attempted to move it was so great that black spots danced across his vision and he had to stop himself from screaming.

Regardless of the extreme pain he remembered being in last time he was conscious, he knew that this current pain in his left arm was a dozen times worse than anything he had felt. So either something new had happened to him since losing the battle with consciousness…or the blood loss and shock had dulled his senses before. He was going to go with the latter.

He looked up at the woman. "What happened to me?" he asked. Sure, he could remember the chase and the fight with the creature well enough, but that still didn't exactly explain everything.

The woman sighed, reached over and grabbed a wooden cup and then handed it to him. Apparently he sounded a little raspy. While he took big gulps from it she asked, "Are you sure you want to know now? You just woke up."

Merlin didn't like the sound of that one bit. But he had to know whatever she was hesitant to tell him. In his experience dread only got worse the longer it had to grow, and it was already pretty bad. "Yes," he replied simply, yet firmly.

The woman sighed sadly and Merlin could see that her eyes were pained and old just as Gaius' always was when he had to deliver bad news. The tense knot in his stomach tightened even more.

"Well," the woman began, "my name is Mercy and I am the one that patched you up. I'm really the closest thing to a physician this village has. I suppose I only knew simple remedies when I started, but through experience I've learned much more. I want you to know this, Merlin, so that you will understand that I know what I'm talking about." She closed her eyes as if bracing herself. "It's little wonder you are in so much pain," Mercy said then she gently picked up Merlin's heavily bandaged arm in her hands, but even that careful movement caused enough pain to make the manservant hiss.

Merlin looked at his arm and had to keep himself from gasping out loud. The limb had more bandages on it than he had ever seen on a wound, and yet he could still see spots of blood beginning to show. If it was bleeding that badly hours after the original injury then it had to be bad. He had guessed from the fact that the pain in that area was so strong that he was dizzy that the injury was the opposite of good, but he hadn't been prepared for what he heard next.

"Merlin, when that creature bit you it was…bad. He bit clean through your arm; you have a hole all the way through. Thankfully it missed the bone, but it still caused a lot of damage. The wound is big and infected from all the grime on the creature's teeth, but I believe that I caught it in time to prevent the infection from getting any worse. Once your arm heals up you will be able to use it, but…I won't lie to you, you will probably have random bolts of pain shoot through it the rest of your life as well as extensive scarring. And…the usage and effectiveness of your arm will be impaired heavily. You'll still be able to use it, but it will be weak and feeble and stiff. And if you strain it too much anytime in the future, especially before it is fully healed, then you may lose use of it entirely. I'm…sorry." She looked down at her hands as she let go of his arm.

Merlin stared at her. It took him a moment for what she had said to fully sink in, but then he replied, "Okay."

Mercy leaned back and blinked at him as if she couldn't comprehend what she was seeing. "'Okay'? That's it? Don't you care that your arm will never be the same?" she asked incredulously.

Merlin leaned on the wall that his bed was against for support since his broken body wasn't capable of keeping itself up on its own at the moment. He looked down at his lap as he replied, "Well, I'll still be able to use it, and it's only one arm…it's not like I'll never be able to walk again or something. I can manage just fine I'm sure."

"This happened to you because you were protecting us, protecting me," the woman began, sounding guilty.

"Which I don't regret one bit," Merlin finished. "My arm is hardly worth lives. It's fine. It'll probably be hard at first, but I'll get along," he said, trying to assuage her guilt.

The woman nodded, then, after a brief pause, "Well, the least I can do is make sure you heal properly. Aside from your arm injury you have quite a few bruises and cuts, as well as a shoulder that will be throbbing for some time." She turned around for a few seconds and then turned back. She held out a small bottle to him. "It's a painkiller, and it's very strong. No doubt you'll want to be on it for the next week or so."

Merlin stared at the bottle long and hard before saying, "No, I'm fine."

"What?" she asked and Merlin thought that there probably wasn't much else he could do to shock her now.

Merlin wasn't sure how to explain any of this to her. His stomach sank at the thought of never being able to use his arm properly again, of being disabled. Part of him wanted to cry at the thought, though, that could also be from the pain he was currently in. But that part of him that was scared at the idea of being partially disabled for the rest of his life was small, tiny. Because, in truth, it wasn't that big of a deal. He still had one perfectly working arm. Not to mention that he still had his magic, and that was all the really mattered. After all, everything he did these days he did for Arthur, to protect him, to make sure he became the king he was supposed to be. And as long as he had his magic then he really wasn't all that disabled.

Life would be a bit different, now, but when it came down to it nothing crucial would change. And, most importantly, he would still be able to protect Arthur. As long as that stayed the same he would be fine. He had already gone through a lot for that prat; he'd even gone as far as to offer up his life in exchange for him, so this really wasn't much in comparison. At least, that was what Merlin kept telling himself.

Still, though, no matter how 'okay' he was with this, he was still in a lot of pain. He longed to reach out and take that bottle, but he knew he really couldn't. Yet another sacrifice he would have to make for Arthur.

A long time ago he and Gaius had learned several very valuable things when it came to Merlin's health. One: He never complained about injuries when he should. Two: Just because he was good at hiding his pain did not mean that he wasn't in any. And three: If Merlin _was_ in pain the last thing on earth he should be given is a painkiller.

Any painkiller strong enough to do its job always had side effects. Normally it would be drowsiness, mild confusion and delirium, and having no control over one's own mouth. But for the most part these by-products were harmless and sometimes even healthy if it meant that the patient got sleep or released some bottled up emotions. But in Merlin's case nothing was simple or easy or harmless.

The first time Gaius had given him a pain-reliever Merlin had nearly been burnt at the stake then and there. Merlin had magic; in fact, he was the closest thing a person could get to _being_ magic. It was a part of him, instinctual to the point where he had to make a conscious effort every second of everyday to hold it back. And the painkiller had messed with his abilities to control his magic.

He had gotten delirious and his emotions had become erratic. In the blink of an eye things would be whizzing around the room, fresh food would pop out of thin air, and anyone who got too close to him would be sent flying. Gaius had sustained mild injuries and his room had been practically torn apart.

When Merlin had come to he had been horrified at what he had done. Scared of what he could do, of being found out, and of who he could hurt Merlin had decided that from then on painkillers weren't an option. But the next time he had gotten injured Gaius had been adamant that he give him something for the pain and had ended up secretly dosing Merlin with a weaker potion. The effect had been almost exactly the same.

This had occurred a few more times before Gaius had finally conceded that painkillers were out of the question for Merlin, but he hadn't liked it. Merlin didn't really blame him, though, for being so persistent. Gaius was a physician and perhaps the thing that he hated most was watching people, especially the ones he loved, in pain and being impotent to doing anything about it.

Mild muscle relaxants and powerful sedatives if the pain got too great was really Merlin's only option now, but at the moment he wanted neither. The pain radiating from all over his body was intense and nearly unbearable, but a muscle relaxant would surely put him to sleep right now, and he couldn't afford that. He had too many questions and his protective nature was tugging at him to ensure that Arthur was truly safe. Plus, Merlin had a distinct feeling that he wouldn't be staying very long in this village. Sleep just wasn't going to happen.

Merlin shifted a little. He wished he could move his arms without a ton of pain, but unfortunately no unseen force granted his wish. Using his sore and tense right arm he pulled the blankets that had been covering him before he jerked awake around his shoulders, gritting his teeth against the nearly paralyzing pain. He sighed, in resignation to both the fact that this was no doubt the level of pain he would be dealing with for the next couple of days at the very least, but also that no matter what he said to Mercy she would still look at him like he was crazy to refuse painkillers. He shivered slightly against the cold that seemed to be gripping him and looked up into her eyes, prepared to give whatever lame explanation that popped into his mind.

But as he saw the deep kindness and concern in her eyes as well as something else he couldn't identify he decided to tell her as much as he could. "It's not that I don't want painkillers…it's just that they have a negative effect on me. I'm…better off without them," Merlin explained.

Mercy nodded thoughtfully as if she understood both what was and wasn't being said. "Regardless, perhaps there is something else I can do to help you. Now, I'm sure it's bad, but I need to know exactly how much pain you're in."

Merlin chuckled grimly. "You don't want to know."

"That bad, huh?" she asked sympathetically. "Well, what hurts the most at the moment?" Her inquiries reminded Merlin of Gaius.

It wasn't exactly a tough question. His whole body hurt and he could tell that his bruises had bruises, but it was his arm that was the most unbearably excruciating. Even without being moved it throbbed and burned and felt like it had been speared by something. But even that pain, which was perhaps one of the three most painful injuries he had suffered in his whole life, didn't bother him as much as the creeping cold he could feel settling in his bones. It seemed as though the cold was coming from within him, as opposed to out, and his stomach felt sensitive and his chest tickled. It felt like he was getting sick except….Merlin never got sick. Not ever. Not unless both his body and his magic were too maxed out to fight the illness or it was a magical disease.

Still, though, she had only asked him about the pain. He had been through a lot lately, no doubt feeling a little sick was to be expected. "Um…my arm," he answered.

Mercy sighed. "Little wonder. There's not much I can do for the pain, but surely you're hungry?"

Merlin properly looked at her for the first time. She had long blond hair that cascaded gently from her head and ended just slightly before her back did. It definitely was the longest hair he'd ever seen. She had delicate features, yet they looked natural, they weren't the features of a pampered princess. Her skin was very light, not really pale, but also nowhere near tan. She was wearing a simple brown dress that was modest and would look perfectly normal on a peasant, and yet it somehow adorned her and added to her beauty instead of taking away from it.

The only piece of jewelry she wore was an intricately carved wooden pendant that gave the impression that it was a woven, circular cage. And inside the pendant was a small blue stone that glinted white. Now that Merlin focused on it he could clearly tell that the necklace held magic, though, a type of magic that he had never really felt before. The magic was both weak and powerful, strong yet delicate.

But Merlin found himself being most stunned by her eyes. They were a normal, light blue color, lighter than even Arthur's, but they were so open and honest. Just by staring at her eyes Merlin could tell everything about her. He saw the kindness, the genuine concern for the stranger she was taking care of, the love that seemed as encompassing and endless as the cool and refreshing waters of a river, and the deep desire to _give_. This woman, Merlin knew, wanted to help people, wanted to help as many people as she could, and that was all she wanted.

Her earlier words now made more sense to him. Her hands and fingers were soft, but still obviously strong and skilled, as well as slightly calloused. She had the heart and soul of a healer, of someone who took joy just by giving and helping.

Merlin remembered a time when he had been like that. A time when he just wanted to take all the pain away from everyone around him. He still had that desire, but it was buried under the weight of so many things he needed to do, so many lives he had to save, and a great destiny he had to fulfill.

Merlin had been slightly wary at first at how nice this strange woman was being to him, but now he knew that in her heart she was suffering just seeing him in pain and all she wanted was to lift it. But despite that she hadn't pushed the painkiller issue; it was clear to Merlin that she was both loving _and_ wise. Her eyes held the same kind of wisdom he often saw in Gaius, though, perhaps less gruff.

Merlin smiled, briefly forgetting his pain, and answered her, "No, I'm really not hungry. But I am curious about some things, maybe you could help me."

Mercy smiled, too, though, Merlin could tell she still wanted to get some food in him. "Of course, I bet you have a lot of questions. I have already suffered through the prince's inquiries; I see no reason why I shouldn't give you the same courtesy." She leant back in her chair.

"Okay, what's your first question?" she asked.

Merlin didn't even have to think about it. "What was that thing?"

A look of deep sadness and pain washed over her face. "That thing," she answered, "killed far too many people. Good people." She turned her head to stare out a window. "My brother included."

Merlin felt his heart ache in empathy for her pain. He could see it in her eyes; the pain was still very real and very fresh. No doubt taking care of people was the only way she knew how to cope. He could see a few silent tears rolling down her face.

"I'm sorry," Merlin said, wishing that he had some way to comfort her, but knowing that he didn't.

Mercy inhaled and seemed to steady herself and wiped her face. "Anyway…I guess a month or two ago was when it first appeared," she continued. Merlin leaned forward, listening intently.

"The first time the sky turned black in the middle of the day we had no idea what was happening. Then this…intense cold seemed to just coat the air and then a horrible smell arrived. After a few minutes, though, the cold and darkness vanished and it was day again. Of course, the strange occurrence frightened and confused us, but there was hardly anything we could do about it. So we went on with our lives except…several people in town started to get sick. The sickness began with a cough and feeling cold and at first no one thought it was anything serious. That is…until a week later when once again the sky turned dark and the only light we could see by was that awful sickly green. The cold and the smell started again, but this time something else happened. All the people who had gotten sick since the last time the dark and cold came were frozen, completely unable to move and no one, no matter how hard they pulled, we were able to move them, either."

Mercy sighed and her voice became a little shaky. "Just as we started to panic because we had no idea what was happening the cold and the smell grew so great that we all nearly gagged and the ground began to become paved with ice. Then out of the shadows came this…thing. It looked like a wolf, but it was far bigger and scarier than any wolf anyone had ever seen. The creature snarled and then bounded forward and approached one of the people who couldn't move. It sniffed the man and then, after a moment, tackled him and…started to eat him…alive." Merlin could see her eyes growing wet again and he found that the pure horror on her face from retelling this was more than enough to paint a terrible picture in his mind.

"Of course," Mercy said almost defensively, "practically all of the men tried to kill the thing, to stop it, but for their troubles they were tossed aside as if they were dolls. Some died trying to protect that poor man, others got injured, and some has enough sense to realize that they couldn't do anything. All of us women and children had been herded inside the houses for safety, and while most looked away I…I watched a man get eaten alive. He couldn't m-move, he couldn't defend himself. All he could do was scream as that beast tore into him. I—" Mercy took a deep breath. She was staring hard at nothing in particular and she was on the verge of breaking down completely.

Ignoring the pain in not only his shoulder, but also the rest of his body, Merlin reach forward and put his hand on her shoulder and squeezed slightly, just enough to bring her back to reality. Mercy turned her gaze on him and Merlin realized that this was the first time she had talked about this, the first time she had truly stopped to think about what she had witnessed. Merlin had never seen a man get eaten alive before, but he had seen other horrible things, and it was only through years and years of watching awful and unbelievable things that he managed to keep himself from falling apart because of them. Even now, the gruesome and bloody deaths that he had seen still haunted him. He couldn't imagine how this young woman, who had obviously never seen anything like this before, could still be holding herself together…for the most part.

Mercy inhaled sharply and brought her hands up to her face to cup her nose and she closed her eyes for a moment, then she opened them again and she seemed more composed. "Sorry," she said apologetically.

"Don't be," Merlin replied, "that's not something anyone should ever have to go through or even see. I don't want you to tell me this if it is too much for you. If it's too painful for you to relive then I understand. You don't have to say anymore." Merlin gave her a reassuring and comforting smile. He really wanted to know what had happened, but not at this woman's own expense.

"No," the healer said confidently, "I want to tell you. We owe you that much. Besides, it might do me some good in the long run." She gave a watery smile. "Anyway, once the creature left, leaving behind one mostly-eaten body and three other men dead because they tried to stop it, not to mention the injured and a terrified town, the ones who had been frozen were released. As soon as the cold and the smell disappeared so did whatever was binding them. They could move again.

"As you can imagine, the village was devastated. We didn't even know how to begin to recover from the attack. But eventually we began to…until, at least, a week later when it happened again. This time, though, more people had grown sick, and everyone who had developed the same symptoms were frozen in place just like the others when the wolf came to feed. This time the wolf ate two and the rest who didn't interfere were spared." She looked down at her hands. "Lucky us.

"The same thing happened over and over again. Every week in the middle of the day the sky would go dark and everyone who had started to get sick froze in place, and the number of those people grew every time. Eventually we quit trying to stop the wolf and just hid in our houses when it came. You can't imagine the fear and the pain. We were all utterly helpless to stop that thing or help our loved ones.

"And then you came." Mercy gave him a glowing smile. "This had been going on for seven weeks and over two dozen people have died people that we all know and love. Worse than that almost everyone had gotten infected and I am-was one of ten or so people who could still move of their own accord when that thing came. Everyone had given up hope. Today when the sky turned black those who could, myself included, ran for cover. And while I was hiding I heard something outside my door…so I looked and I saw you and your friends moving and for a moment I felt hope…then I realized you'd die with the rest of us. That's why I yelled at you to leave."

Merlin started understanding. Everything made sense, even some tiny things that had been bugging him. Like the cold in his bones….

"But then the creature came and you still weren't leaving. I was more than tired of hiding and watching everyone I care about die…I was one of the last to stop fighting. Week after week I would fight to stop the wolf, but two weeks ago the creature must have gotten angry at me because it knocked me over and I think it was about to kill me when my brother pulled me out of the way. The creature's claws clipped him and I guess that that must have caused the sickness to enter him because he suddenly couldn't move. There was hardly eno-enough to bury once the beast was done with him." Mercy's breaking voice cut off in a sob and she brought her hands to her face once more, trying to hide her tears. "He died saving me."

Merlin could see that this was a kind of pain that words could not heal, but instead would only make worse. So he said nothing, he merely placed his hand on her shoulder again and waited for her to get out some much-needed crying.

After a couple of minutes her sobs slowed and she began to calm down. "It's okay, I'm okay," she said, more to herself than Merlin. "I just have trouble believing it. It doesn't seem real. I keep thinking that this is just a bad nightmare." Mercy dried her face. "And it was, I was going nuts watching people die and being unable to help them…so when you came along I guess I saw it as an opportunity to save someone. You and your friends weren't from around here; there was still hope for you. Even if I died getting you to safety it wouldn't matter. One way or another everyone was going to die, so I figured that I had nothing to lose. And that's when I grabbed your hand and told you to run." Her right hand squeezed Merlin's and she gave a small smile.

"And well, you know what happened from there," Mercy finished and she leaned back in her chair. "We ran, it caught up with us and then you killed it…with magic."

Merlin felt like he had been punched. His physical pain was forgotten as he stared at Mercy and tried to comprehend what she had said. Dread welled up to his stomach and he found himself breathing quickly. He faintly became aware of a ringing in his ears. The last thing he needed right now was to deal with this. She couldn't know, not now. "I…I don't know what you mean," he croaked out.

"It's okay, Merlin," Mercy said reassuringly, "I know you're Emrys."

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><p>I know, no Arthur in this chapter. What's up with that? Well, I had this whole back story planned and that was sort of what this chapter was about. I had hoped to get much more done in this chapter, but it didn't work out. Next update should hopefully have Arthur and should start returning to the action. Sorry again for the wait and please review.<p> 


	9. Don't You Give Up Hope

Sweet mother of pearl! Another update less than a week later? What can this mean?

Well, it means that a fantastic, awesome, and epic writer sent me a wonderful review that gave me the motivation to write. Thank you so much, Captain Ozone, for your review. I wrote something like 2000 words that day alone because of your kind and encouraging words. If I were you all of you readers I'd stop trying to get through my crap and start reading Captain Ozone's awesome stuff.

So, now that that has been said I also want to say thank you to all of the other reviewers who were also very kind and motivating in their reviews. You guys are brilliant. Now on to the chapter.

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><p>"What?" Merlin asked, dumbstruck.<p>

"I know you're Emrys," Mercy repeated with a kind smile on her face. "But don't worry, I won't tell anyone. Though, I doubt it would matter if I did. This whole town is indebted to you and no one is likely to forget that anytime soon. The gifts are proof enough of that."

"Wait—what?" Merlin asked. He was dizzy, in pain, his stomach was in knots from dread and fear, and he still felt he was going to be sick after hearing her story about the wolf—to say that he was confused and dazed would be an understatement. "What gifts?"

Mercy gave a sharp nod of her head to a closed door to her left. "The gifts in there. Once you killed that monster everyone could move again. It wasn't long before people began to realize that it was dead and that you saved them. Even the people who were sick before have already begun to get better. Many people are calling your coming a miracle." Mercy's eyes glinted with joy and Merlin dimly thought that she was very much ruled by her emotions, much like he was. Though fear and sadness could hurt her terribly, love and happiness could almost make everything better. Her name really did fit her.

"Anyway," she continued, "once people learned that their savor was here they started bringing gifts over. Some brought simple things like flowers, while other people went all out and baked and cooked. Half my house is overridden with gifts from people who want to show you their gratitude."

Merlin stared at the closed door as if he could see through it to the tokens of appreciation on the over side. "I don't—I can't accept—"Merlin stuttered but Mercy cut him off.

"I don't know if you'll have much of a choice. All these people had given up hope entirely and had settled down to wishing to be eaten first so they wouldn't have to watch their children die. Then you came along and killed the un-killable. You stopped what no one else could. What happened to this town…no one will ever be the same again. They'll look at life with new eyes. They'll see it for how precious and delicate it really is and they have you to thank for that. You gave them hope when there was none; don't mistake the value of something like that." Mercy looked at him with yearning in her eyes. She truly wanted him to understand what he had given them.

Merlin wasn't used to this. He wasn't used to people acknowledging what he did and he definitely wasn't used to being thanked for it. And gifts? Usually his gift at the end of the day for saving lives was a hot supper that Gaius had prepared and sometimes not even that. He had long since given up on the idea of being thanked or receiving any praise for what he did and in a way that was fine with him. If he managed to save lives and Arthur came out in one piece then that was really all he needed.

Monsters and evil sorcerers and even possessed friends he knew how to deal with. But a whole town thanking him? He had no idea how to deal with that.

Oblivious to Merlin's inner conundrum, Mercy continued talking. "And that's how I know that you're Emrys."

Merlin's head snapped up sharply again and he was about to deny it but Mercy didn't give him a chance. "Save the lies. It's okay. The reason I know you're Emrys is because it was foretold that you would save us." Merlin blinked in surprise. Mercy seemed to understand his confusion because she went on, "No, we didn't know when you'd save us; in fact, most people didn't even believe you existed before today. There is a legend in our village that Emrys would one day come and save us all from an attack that would threaten everyone in our town. Most people just thought it was a myth or some stupid story someone made up to make our town more interesting. But after today I kind of think that there is some truth to that prophesy." She gave a sly smile. "I may have been unable to move, but I saw you use magic to kill that thing."

Merlin's breathing began to quicken again. Mercy once more seemed able to read his thoughts because she hurried on to say, "Don't worry, I told Prince Arthur that you killed it with a nearby torch. Perfectly natural means. Besides, it was close enough to the truth. That's also how I figured out that Arthur was a prince, after all, considering the other legends concerning you it made sense. He still doesn't know I know.

"But you don't have to be afraid," continued, still trying to calm Merlin down who was having some trouble holding himself together. You would too if he had nearly died several times in only a few days. "Magic is not as hated or feared here as it is in Camelot. Magic is rather rare and people are cautious, but it won't get you killed…not unless you hurt someone purposefully with it."

Mercy put a reassuring hand on Merlin's shoulder and he felt himself relax. His magic liked Mercy and his magic was rarely ever wrong about someone. He really should stop overreacting since he had decided a few minutes after waking up that he was in no danger. But his head was pounding viciously and he was so cold. Not to mention his arm, which was in horrible agony. What he wouldn't give to be able to take a painkiller right now…

Mercy stood up and grabbed Merlin another glass of water and another blanket before sitting down again. "You know, you aren't the first person I've seen whose come through the Border. It's not unusual to see a couple people a year. Not all of them have magic, but a lot of them are scared or frightened for some reason or another. I've heard the stories about you, Merlin, and I know you have a big destiny, but…I can't help but think that this part of the world could be a nice safe haven for you like it has been for so many others."

"Why would you say that?" Merlin inquired as his snuggled up deeper in the blankets. He felt an odd tickling in his throat and he coughed to make it go away, but it didn't.

"Well, because," Mercy said as she began to resume her spinning again. "Arthur told me you were his servant, he just mentioned it in passing, but that in itself is a glimpse of your life. I know enough about the world on the other side of the Border to know that you have to hide who you are. There have been people on this side for a lot longer than Uther has been alive. This village is just one of many that make up a vast kingdom. Perhaps not here, but in the center of this land magic is not feared, but rather respected and awed. There are places where one can go to learn how to use magic. Magic is rare, but it is seen as a gift, not a curse. I know your life must be more difficult than I can imagine. This place could give you the rest and acceptance you need."

Merlin had to admit that a place like this was exactly what he had been dreaming of his whole life. It sounded wonderful. But he couldn't stay here. "I wish I could," Merlin said, sighing and giving another cough, which only served to make his throat hurt more. "But it's my destiny to protect Arthur, which means that I can't leave him on his own."

She gave him a curious look. "You really are loyal to him, aren't you? You save people, protect him, all without a thought for yourself. I've never met anyone like you before, Merlin." She paused for a moment then said, "But I really didn't expect you to stay here. I've heard the legends; I've seen you in action. It's obvious that there's nothing more important to you than keeping him safe. You don't do it because of destiny, you do it because he's your friend and you'd give your life for him."

"In a heartbeat," Merlin stated immediately.

Mercy looked back down at her spinning. "Would he do the same for you?"

Merlin stared deep into her eyes as she did into his. He looked at the speckles of white and light green that dotted them as if searching for the answer there. Finally he pulled his gaze away and stared down at his mutilated arm. "I-I don't know," he said at last. "I'd like to think that he would, that we're that close but…I mean, he's risked his life for me before and I know he cares about me, even if he doesn't always show it. But there are times…moments when I'm not sure. Sometimes I wonder if I'm nothing more than a servant to him." Merlin gazed up at her with a pleading look in his eyes as if asking for her to reassure him. "Most days I'm confident that he would, but there is that small shred of doubt. And that's what keeps me from telling him.

"It's not just my life that would be in danger if Arthur didn't accept me; it's also his life and the lives of everyone I care about. The prat can hardly keep himself alive a single day without me and enough creatures and sorcerers have attacked Camelot to show me that it might be in real danger if anything happened to me. So even though I'd like to believe that Arthur cares enough to give his life for me…I can't say for sure. Especially if he knew my secret." Merlin looked at Mercy helplessly. He had never told anyone that before and only now did he realize how much it had been eating him up inside.

Mercy's face was sad and pained. She reached forward and enveloped him in a gentle hug that she was careful to make sure didn't hurt. Now it was her turn to comfort him.

"You know," she said slowly, "one of the things I've read in the legend of Emrys is that he will carry a great burden and will suffer much because of his powers." She pulled away from him and gripped his shoulders and stared directly into his eyes. "But I also read that the pain won't continue forever. That one day his struggle will end and he will be made whole."

Because of everything that had happened and the weight that was upon him and now finally opening up some in ways that he hadn't even to Gaius, Merlin had shed a few tiny tears. But when he heard what Mercy said he felt a small glimmer of hope in his chest. A warmth that even the cold infecting him couldn't touch. "What…what do you mean 'whole'?" he asked after a moment or two.

Mercy let go of him and leaned back in her chair again. "I don't know. It was something I read in a book my mother gave me. It said: 'And in the midst of his greatest pain and deepest sorrow there will appear a light. And that light will bloom into a great joy and happiness that will never end. Emrys' pain will disappear as he is made whole. And then the Golden Age of the Once and Future King and the one who would always save him will begin. An age like no other. An age of love.'"

She gave that refreshing and bright smile of hers and Merlin felt his heart uplifted. Something about those words had touched some deep part of him. Something ancient and powerful. His magic literally jumped at the words and there was only one other word that had ever done that to him. And that was his Druid name, Emrys.

Suddenly Merlin heard a click and he looked over to see the closed door slowly open, as if whoever was opening it didn't want to wake someone. Merlin felt himself break into a wide grin as he saw Arthur's head pop through the opening in the doorway.

For a moment the prince looked around and then he caught sight of Merlin and he seemed shocked. Then abruptly he rushed forward and Merlin found himself being hugged…by _Arthur_.

For a moment Merlin was so stunned that he didn't think anything at all, and then he thought…_Arthur is hugging me._

Merlin couldn't remember the last time Arthur had showed this much affection to him, or to anyone else for that matter. _Gwen_ didn't count. Neither did the various women he had been enchanted to love over the years. To say that he was surprised would be an understatement. But he had to admit that it felt good.

Of course, Arthur was really strong and his hug was causing hot bolts of agony to streak up and down his arms and along his neck into his head, but it was worth it. Merlin had been through so much lately and he was so tired, especially after his recent confession, and the comfort was more than welcome. But not only that—he also felt a glimmer of hope spark. Arthur was _hugging_ him, if that wasn't proof that he really cared then nothing was.

Arthur pulled back a little and seemed to be checking if he was okay. "You're awake," he said as if he almost didn't believe it. He smiled. Then suddenly he seemed to realize what he was doing and he stood up and put his mask back in place. "I mean…it's about time you woke up. I swear I've never seen anyone as lazy as you, Merlin."

For a moment Merlin just stared at him, still a little dazed from the shock and pain. Then he noticed the concern that was buried, though obviously not deep enough, as well as the awkwardness and he decided to get back to familiar territory. "Well, you'd be sleepy too if a ten foot wolf decided to snack on your arm."

Though he had meant to return to their old banter, apparently he had said the wrong thing because guilt flashed strongly in Arthur's eyes and he dropped all pretenses.

"How do you feel?" he asked, concern layering his voice.

Briefly, for one crazy second, he considered telling the truth. But somehow he didn't think that saying that he was in more pain than he had been in since a certain insane and sadistic sorcerer had kidnapped them and had tortured him would go over very well. He could tell that Arthur was already berating himself enough as it was, so he decided to do what he always did. He lied.

"I feel fine."

Arthur gave him a look that was one part anger, one part disbelief, and two parts pained concern. Only Arthur Pendragon could pull off a look like that.

Suddenly Merlin heard a banging sound and looked over just in time to see something barrel towards him before it slammed into him. For the third time in less than an hour Merlin found himself being hugged, this time, however; Merlin couldn't suppress a small groan as pain once more lanced into his head. Still, though, Merlin wouldn't say no to a hug, no matter how painful it was.

"Merlin, mate," Gwaine said when he finally pulled away from the bone-crushing hug, "it's good to see you among the land of the conscious and mildly sober again. We were really worried about you."

Arthur had gone back to being all detached and pompous when Gwaine had appeared and the drunk seemed to notice. "Well, at least _I_ was worried about you, Princess here might be too proud to say so. So how are you?" he asked.

Before Merlin could answer Arthur cut in, "He says he's fine," he said a little sarcastically.

"Of course. Naturally. He nearly gets killed and gets badly injured, but sure, he's fine," Gwaine said pointedly, throwing Merlin a look that he pretended not to notice.

"Yeah, well, both of you constantly pointing it out isn't going to make him any better," Mercy butted in, saying something for the first time since Arthur appeared. Both men looked contrite at her words. "Well," she said, turning to Merlin, "if you're feeling up to moving around a bit I think that some fresh air could do you good. If nothing else it might take your mind off of the pain since you aren't willing to take painkillers."

Arthur's head whipped around sharply at that. "What? Why would you refuse something for the pain, Merlin?"

Merlin felt a little bit of dread well up inside him again and opened his mouth to say something, but nothing came to mind. Thankfully, however; Mercy saved him from answering.

"They make him delirious and what with everything he has been through the last thing he needs is something to make him hallucinate. Besides, he said he's allergic to most painkillers. I'm a physician and I'd hate to give him something that would make him feel worse. If the pain gets too bad for him to handle we can always figure out something or take our chances, but for now I think he's probably right. Painkillers wouldn't be a very good idea." She gave a disarming smile and briefly shot a look at Merlin as if to say: 'Don't worry, I've got you covered.' Merlin only wished that Gaius would be that helpful when covering for him instead of telling Arthur that he was going to a _tavern_ of all places.

"Anyway, Merlin, would you like to go outside?" she asked again.

Merlin considered it for a moment. He was still in a lot of pain and he was positively freezing right now, but he did kind of want to get out. Despite all his protests when Arthur gave him a bunch of chores to do, he really didn't like sitting still for too long. It probably came from too many occasions where he desperately wished he had more time. As a result of that he hated to just sit around and do nothing. So maybe getting up and moving would be a good idea.

"Yeah I would," he answered.

Gwaine practically jumped forward to help him up. Both he and Mercy put their hands on his back in order not to cause his arms anymore pain and they guided him until he stood up.

For a moment Merlin felt supremely dizzy and black spots danced across his vision and he swayed on his feet. He shivered violently and coughed involuntarily.

"Merlin, are you all right?" Merlin heard Gwaine ask.

"Maybe this isn't such a good idea," Arthur said and he sounded much closer than Merlin remembered him being.

"Do you need to sit down again?" Mercy asked as she gripped his shoulders and tried to get him to lift his head up.

Finally Merlin's vision cleared and he looked with watery eyes at all the concerned faces around him. Something was definitely wrong with him, and not just his arm either, something else entirely, but they didn't have to know that. He had been lying all his life, what was one more? "No, I'm fine, I'm good," he answered, glancing reassuringly at his friends. "It was just the blood rushing, that's all. I'm all right. Let's-let's go outside."

Merlin was surprised to find that even speaking hurt his throat now, though, it wasn't unbearable. He shivered again. He had a theory about what was causing these new symptoms, but for now he wasn't going to voice it. In truth, he really just didn't want to say anything right now, it was too exhausting.

His friends, Arthur and Mercy especially, didn't look convinced by his words, but apparently they decided that going outside wouldn't be the death of him because they didn't try to get him to sit down again.

Slowly, carefully trying not to jostle his heavily damaged arm and cause him yet more pain, they led him through the door that Arthur and Gwaine had burst through.

Merlin felt like an old person or an invalid, though, technically he _was_ the latter, needing people to help him walk and he couldn't help but wonder how he could be such a powerful warlock but still feel so helpless and in pain. He hated feeling helpless, especially when it came to something as simple as walking, but at this point he didn't have much of a choice. It was rather frustrating.

But some of his annoyance at being supported by three people evaporated when he looked up and saw the table in the next room. Every inch of it was covered with baskets and boxes and flowers. Some of them had fancy wrapping, while others had no wrapping at all, but Merlin could tell that these were the gifts that Mercy had been talking about.

He just stared at them all, his mouth hanging open. There were flowers and all kinds of foods and wooden, delicately crafted figures of animals or trees or other simple things. There were skillfully knitted scarves and, much to Merlin's surprise and joy, neckerchiefs whose colors suited him. There were books of every kind and length and herbs and spices and tools for cooking or fixing things. Never before had Merlin seen so much stuff just piled in one place and, honestly, he couldn't believe that even half of them were meant for him, let alone all of them. In all his life he had probably never owned more than a couple of dozen things at once, and most of them were clothes or other basic necessities. He couldn't imagine owning all this stuff or eating all that food, especially considering how nauseous he was right now.

Merlin couldn't think of a single thing to say about the odd and generous assortment of gifts except, "There's no way all of that is going to fit in the saddle bags."

Gwaine cracked a smile. "Maybe it won't have to. I could rid you of some of those delicious pastries."

"Always thinking with your stomach, Gwaine," Arthur said almost exasperatedly.

"Don't worry, Merlin," Mercy said kindly as she began steering him towards her front door again, "we can worry about what to do with all of that later. Right now just focus on getting better."

Together the four of them stepped outside into the slightly-cooler fresh air, which made Merlin shrink more into his blankets. He stared up into the sky. The daylight was slowly fading and he guessed that there was perhaps a few more hours left before nightfall. It was hard to believe that it was only earlier today that he had been running from a magical, giant wolf with someone whose name he didn't even know. Everything had changed since then, and yet nothing really had. He and Arthur still had their quest and it wasn't like his destiny to protect Arthur was going to change anytime soon. Though, currently he didn't feel capable of protecting anyone.

But some things had changed. He glanced down at his greatly-bandaged arm and tried to wrap his head around the concept that he would never really be able to use it properly. But he couldn't.

He stared at his arm and for a brief second he thought he could still feel the wolf's sharp teeth digging and tearing at his flesh and ripping the muscle to shreds. He blinked and tried to get the image out of his head.

He looked up in an attempt to distract himself and that was when he saw them. Slowly piling into the square around him were dozens and dozens of people. Young and old, male and female, strong and delicate. Some of them seemed to be family members, while others had the distinct look of loners. But all of them, regardless of what they looked like, were all staring at him with a combination of curiosity and expectation.

Merlin felt like a fish that had been trapped in a net. There all seemed to be waiting for him to say or do something, but he had no idea what. They were just…staring.

Then suddenly a young girl with mesmerizing green eyes and shiny black hair, who couldn't be more than seven years old, stepped away from the people who were obviously her parents and walked up to him.

She stopped in front of him and held out her hand which contained a single, beautiful rose. Merlin felt his heart pang at the sight of it. Roses always reminded him of Freya and to this day he still didn't know how to create strawberries instead of roses, not that he had tried since her death.

Hesitantly Merlin reached out and took the offered rose.

"Are you Merlin?" the young girl asked, but he had a feeling that she already knew the answer.

"Yes," he replied simply and a little croakily. His throat kept getting worse.

The girl smiled and Merlin felt his heart warm at the sight. "You saved my life." Her smile broke into a full-blown grin and she dove forward and wrapped her arms around him, hugging him. "You stopped the big, bad wolf," she said, her voice a bit muffled. She looked up at him. "Thank you."

Merlin looked down at this innocent young girl and he felt a change come over him. Normally he was happy saving anyone and everyone he could, but this time it was different. This time his magic was happy. He could feel it soaring, but not in an attempt to break free, but merely in an expression of joy. There was something about this girl, her innocence combined with the throb of magic he could feel pulsing through her reminded him of something. That there was always hope. And for a moment, a brief moment, the evil sickness coursing through his veins that was trying to kill him flinched backward. Because Merlin's happiness and hope was like a ray of sunshine in a darkened world. And evil notoriously doesn't like light.

And it would be because of that very reason that one day Merlin would not only beat evil, but death itself. And everyone would live.

* * *

><p>Well? What did you think? This chapter was mostly explaining again, but it had some Arthur in it! Next chapter will have a lot more of the main three and we shall be moving on from the little town. We're starting to get close to the nitty gritty stuff and I hope that all of you will have your tube socks knocked off when you see what I have in store. And yes, there will be a lot more bromance from here on out. Speaking of which, just for fun look up on Youtube the music video Bromance. It's hilarious and don't worry, it's not inappropriate or anything. It hurts my fanfiction brain. Anyway, please review.<p> 


	10. Convincing and Running out of Time

So I wanted t have this up last weekend, but on the days I had set aside for writing I got really sick, so I apologize for that. Anyway, once again thank you to everyone who has reviewed and encouraged me to continue writing. Also, I think you all should know that not everything I hint at in these chapters, most specifically this one and the last one, will appear in this fic. I plan on having at least two more fics in this series and a lot of the stuff that I hint will be coming will appear in one or both of those. Of course, a lot of the tiny foreshadowing that I have can apply to more than one fic because it's vague enough to have several meanings. I just thought you should all know that I'm mean since I won't be answering all of your questions as to what a certain line means anytime soon. I like to drag things out as you may have realized from my Merlin whump. Have fun!

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><p>Arthur watched as the little girl hugged Merlin's legs fondly. Merlin had the innocence and kindness of a child and seeing him with this one was heart-warming. Eventually the girl pulled away and backed up a step or two and Arthur was amused to see how dazed Merlin looked. But he soon mirrored the boy's shock as he saw the little girl give Merlin a deep curtsy.<p>

Arthur saw a movement in the corner of his eye and he turned just in time to see each one of the fifty or so people assembled near them, almost as one, bow their heads. The prince's jaw dropped as the heads lowered and even some of the biggest and strongest-looking men, obviously town leaders and protectors, got down on their knees in a sign of respect.

Arthur stole a brief glance at Merlin and the others and saw that they were just as astonished as he was. This was perhaps the highest sign of respect and gratitude there was and, if possible, Arthur was even more stunned by it than Merlin.

Suddenly one of the men on his knees slowly got up and walked over towards them. Though his face looked young and timeless, the streaks of grey in his hair betrayed that he was older than he looked. He had a single, old, puffy scar that ran down the length of his face and somehow it didn't make him ugly, but rather made him more likable, as if he was someone who you knew you could trust.

The man stopped before Merlin and bowed his head before saying. "My name is Jacob," he stated, "You have saved our whole village. We owe you our thanks. If there is anything, anything at all we can do to repay you we'd do it in a heartbeat. There is nothing worse than watching the ones you love die, but you put a stop to it. Just say the word and it you can have it." Jacob smiled and Arthur got the impression that he was the leader of this village. He spoke for all of them.

"Yes, Em-Merlin," the girl said, "let us do something for you."

Arthur saw Merlin's gaze flicker to the girl's, but he already could tell that Merlin had no intention of taking these people up on their offer. He was far too selfless.

But Arthur, on the other hand, was a different story. He remembered what he had sworn to himself only a few hours ago, when he had just learned the full truth of the idiot's condition. He had made a promise to himself as he watched his manservant grimace in pain even during sleep. This was something he had to do.

"Yes, actually," Arthur interjected before Merlin had had a chance to decline the offer. "There is something you could do."

Jacob turned his attention on Arthur and gave him a slight nod to signal that he was to continue. Arthur had seen the man around earlier in the day and had seen the looks thrown his way. Though he had the feeling that while most of the credit for the death of the beast belonged to Merlin he and Gwaine were not completely left out of the gratitude either. They were traveling with Merlin and that was more than enough to make these people warm up to them.

"Before we came here," Arthur began, hoping against hope that Merlin wouldn't put up much of a fight against this, "we were traveling on a very important mission that lives depend on. We still have that quest and we cannot afford to delay any longer, but…." He pointed to Merlin, ignoring the suspicious looks Merlin was throwing his way, or as suspicious as he could look considering how tired he seemed. "But, as you can see, Merlin is greatly injured. It would be very dangerous for him to continue to travel with us in his current condition and we can't stay here, and I was wondering—"

"If we would look after him," Jacob cut in and guessed correctly. "Of course, it would be our honor to make sure he heals properly. It's the least we can do." Once again he smiled, something that it seemed everyone but the three of them had been doing since the creature's death. It may be dead, but Arthur knew at what cost.

Merlin's head jerked towards him and there was an accusing and indignant glare on his face as Arthur knew there would be. "What?" he exclaimed. "No, I'm not staying." Merlin turned his gaze to Jacob. "The offer is very nice, but I'm not going to let you go off on your own, Arthur." His attention returned to the prince. "Look at what we've encountered already. You'll likely get yourself killed!"

Jacob seemed hesitant. Obviously he wanted to help Merlin in any way that he could, but Arthur could tell that he only wanted it to be voluntarily.

"Give us a moment," Arthur said to the leader, then turned and pulled Merlin off to the side, ignoring the venomous glare that Gwaine was shooting at him for not being included or consulted.

"Merlin," Arthur said, making eye contact with the boy, something he rarely ever did. It was far too serious. "Listen to me. I thought all about this while you were sleeping. This is the best option we have."

Merlin just shook his head at Arthur's words. Sometimes the boy had a stubbornness that rivaled that of Arthur's father.

Arthur sighed. He knew he would have to be really persuasive if he was going to convince Merlin. In truth, though, part of him hated this idea just as much as Merlin obviously did. He didn't know these people and leaving Merlin in their care was one of the last things he wanted to do. Even though he knew that these people wouldn't possibly hurt him. Still, he was uneasy leaving Merlin in the care of someone who he himself didn't trust completely and totally.

But then Arthur remembered the sinking feeling that had resonated in his chest when his body had finally been freed of the beast's grasp and he had ran to Merlin's side, only to realize how hurt he was. Seeing Merlin covered in his own blood and with a heavily mangled arm had been enough to nearly cause Arthur to throw up. But it wouldn't have done him any good.

He was the Crowned Prince of Camelot. He had been training from a very young age to fight and think well and to not let anything scare him or get under his skin. And most things didn't, at least, not enough to leave a lasting impression on him. But there were a few things, a few nightmare scenarios that chilled him to the bone and weren't worth thinking about. And something bad happening to Merlin, losing him, frightened him to the core of his being. Nothing bad could ever happen to Merlin, not now, not ever. There had already been far too many times when he _had_ let something happen to the idiot.

After watching Merlin get tortured half to death several years ago Arthur had made a promise, not only to others, but also to himself, that nothing even remotely close to that would ever, ever occur again.

And so when he had seen Merlin lying motionless and drenched in blood he had felt his heart stop and his whole world tip. If it hadn't been for Mercy's skill and presence of mind Merlin might not even be still…and that thought terrified him.

This wasn't even the first time since beginning this quest that Merlin had had paid a horrible price for saving them. And that blew him away, too. He had always known deep down, if he bothered to look, that Merlin was far from useless and he had seen the boy save lives on plenty of occasions. But this was now the second time that Merlin had saved both him and Gwaine from a magical creature that they had been unable to lift even a finger against. He didn't know why or how, but Merlin had managed to keep himself together long enough to kill the spider in the clearing, even though Arthur himself had been reduced to being mercilessly attacked by his own memories, and outrun the wolf and avoid being paralyzed. For some reason Merlin had managed to stay on his own two feet on both of these occasions and Arthur knew without a doubt that he wouldn't be alive right now if it weren't for him.

But Mercy had informed him, not long after Merlin had passed out from the pain, of the state of his arm. Merlin had gotten hurt in the past, but this time…this was something he would never fully recover from.

Hearing that Merlin would never regain full use of his arm again had felt like a blow to Arthur. Merlin always got better, he always turned out okay and none the worse for the wear, but because he had saved Arthur's life that would no longer be the case.

Merlin was so innocent and kind and loving, he was the last person who deserved this. Arthur himself had done things he wasn't proud of; out of anyone _he_ should have been the one to get hurt.

After he had learned the full extent of the damage Merlin had suffered, and Mercy hadn't spared _any_ details, he had made a vow to himself. Merlin had saved him, saved them both and he had paid a horrible price for it. He had done more than enough on this quest; Arthur wouldn't let him get hurt again.

"No, Arthur," Merlin interrupted his thoughts, "I'm not staying here." There was a strong determination in his tone that Arthur knew he would have to push hard to budge.

"Merlin," Arthur pleaded, "Look at yourself. You're hardly strong enough to stand on your own and you have a dozen injuries." Arthur adverted his eyes. "Mercy told me about your arm…the last thing we need is to injure or hurt it more." He looked back at Merlin with renewed vigor. "I know you're worried about everyone back home and that you want to see this through, but you've done enough. Stay here, rest, get back your strength and on our way back once we have stopped the storm we will come back here and take you home." He gave Merlin the most earnest look he could. There was no joking or sarcasm or even prattishness in his tone now. Arthur Pendragon was completely serious.

* * *

><p>Merlin stared at him, his cold and discomfort forgotten, and he heard the plea in his master's voice. A big part of him wanted to listen to Arthur, not only so he could get the rest his body desperately desired, but also because it was intensely rare for Arthur to, for once, not be hiding his true emotions. But Merlin knew that he just couldn't. He couldn't let Arthur go on without him. Who knows what danger he could get himself into, or worse….what the price that someone may have to pay in order to stop the storm was? Whatever the price was, if it did exist, Merlin was determined to be the one to pay it. He would not let anything happen to Arthur. Physical pain and even his own safety didn't matter when it came to protecting Arthur…and it never would.<p>

"Arthur," Merlin sighed, "I'm going with you. You can't get me to stay behind. You can't deny that after what happened today I might just be capable of saving your life, and no matter how remote that chance is I have to take it. We are in a foreign territory, who knows what you might run into. You may call me an idiot, and I guess you're right because I'm staying with you. You can't get rid of me." Merlin tried to give a reassuring smile, but it had no effect.

But Merlin's resolve nearly broke when he saw the pain in Arthur's eyes. "I made a promise," Arthur said quietly, almost as if he knew he couldn't win, "to some of the people who care about you back home that I wouldn't let anything bad happen to you. I've already broken that promise. But you and I both know that Gaius would kill me if I brought you back home dead.

"By rights you shouldn't even be here. You're a servant, Merlin; you shouldn't have to come on perilous quests with me. That already goes above and beyond the call of duty. I know that for some stupid reason you think it's your job to save me, but it's not. You may be lazy some days, but you have always done far more for me than was ever expected of you." Arthur ducked his head a bit in shame. "I know I-I haven't always treated you the way I should. But you have already given your arm for me; you don't need to give anything else." Arthur's voice hardened and his eyes turned to steel. "If I have to I'll have Mercy sedate you to keep you here. You're _not_ coming with."

Arthur was very stubborn, but even he was really no match for the resolve that Merlin had. When that boy was truly determined nothing could stop him. "If Mercy or anyone in this town tried to stop me then I'd run away from them, or slip away when they weren't looking." Merlin's eyes were now just as hard as Arthur's. "Mercy couldn't keep me asleep forever; it wouldn't be good for my health. One way or another I'd find a way to follow you, Arthur, plus, I don't really think any of these people, especially Mercy, would drug me or keep me here against my will. Face it, I'm coming with you."

Arthur's stomach fell and dread welled up inside him. He could see it on Merlin's face that he had lost. No matter what he did Merlin wouldn't be staying behind. Arthur suddenly got an intense feeling of foreboding…Merlin was coming with them…and he was going to suffer for it.

Arthur looked down at the boy's arm and imagined all the other injuries Mercy had told him about. The manservant was half dead already…how much more could he take?

"All right," Arthur said, not looking at Merlin as he conceded, "but you're not going to be doing anything even remotely strenuous, understand?"

Merlin gave one of his impish grins—a grin that for a little while Arthur had been afraid he'd never see again—and replied, "Why, Arthur, your concern is touching."

Arthur wanted to give a retort, but he simply didn't have the energy to be making jokes and bantering with Merlin right now. He couldn't shake the feeling that something horrible was going to happen to Merlin because of this and until he got the idiot home in one piece he wouldn't be able to truly smile. The sense of powerlessness that this whole situation, and indeed this whole quest, was giving him reminded him all too clearly of those long and agonizing days all those years ago when he had watched, helpless, as Merlin was tortured. In truth, Arthur had been scared out of his mind for Merlin when he had seen his arm and that feeling still hadn't left him. Maybe it never would.

* * *

><p>Merlin fingered the object around his neck absently. Already he was missing Mercy and her kind, easy-going and understanding nature. She was one of the few people who had readily accepted his magic without even asking any questions. She didn't ask if he had ever used it to hurt anyone or if he was secretly evil. In fact, she hadn't even asked what it was like. She had treated him like a normal person and hadn't let her knowledge of his magic affect how she behaved around him.<p>

The horse beneath him jolted just slightly, but it was more than enough to make the pain that was already almost beyond his tolerance spike and he barely managed to suppress the agonized groan that tried to push pass his lips.

Though he was grateful that the people of the village, which he had learned was called Landar, had provided not only him but Arthur and Gwaine as well with horses, he almost wished to be walking in the hopes that that might lessen his pain. But he doubted it would. In all probability walking would only make him feel worse and hurt his arm more, not to mention the fact that he was hardly strong enough to stay on his feet at the moment anyway.

It was nearly dark now and Merlin had been in terrible agony for over four hours straight and there had been a point, perhaps a half an hour ago now, when he had been so desperate to just rid himself of the pain for just a moment and finally relax that he had tried a spell to take away his discomfort. It had backfired by shooting bolts of pain into his head and eyes and he had nearly blacked out. And that's when Merlin had gotten really scared.

Not long before he had left Mercy had asked him if there was a spell he could perform to heal himself or lessen the pain. Merlin had told her that normally he didn't try to heal himself since healing magic was tricky and difficult and he could end up seriously hurting himself if he tried while injured. And he had been right, but the intense pain that he had suffered from the simple pain-reliever spell he had tried was far more extreme than it should have been. With an easy spell like that at worse it wouldn't have worked and maybe caused his head to pound a little…but nearly passing out? His magic was a lot stronger than that.

But his chest felt heavy and he was starting to have some difficulty breathing and he was cold throughout no matter how hard he tried to get warm. Something, without a doubt, was happening to him. Something was affecting his magic, draining it. Before he had hoped that he was just imagining the pull against his magic that he could feel and he had tried to pass off the cold as just a reaction to all that he had been through. But now he could clearly feel it and he knew he didn't have much time left. Whatever was inside him was killing him. It was slowly draining the life out of him and he had no idea how to stop it. In his current condition his magic would be unable to do anything against it and he doubted that they'd find something or someone that would be able to help him.

He had a feeling he knew where the sickness inside of him had come from. After his encounter with the spider only a few days ago he had felt weak and tired from the exposure to the evil magic. Now just earlier today he had gotten attacked and bitten by yet another evil, magical creature that caused its victims to get sick and die. Merlin could do the math.

But all the others who had gotten sick had been cured when the wolf had died, so Merlin didn't know why he was still deteriorating.

Merlin wondered if maybe he should inform Arthur about the illness coursing through his veins, but he had just barely managed to get Arthur to let him come. Of course, even if Arthur had tried to make him stay behind it wouldn't have worked. Merlin was supposed to be the most powerful sorcerer to have ever lived and it was supposed to be his destiny to protect Arthur no matter what. One way or another Merlin would have followed the prat…nothing would have been able to stop him.

But telling him now might only further worry him and delay their quest, which they couldn't afford to do right now. The illness was slowly killing him that much he knew, but he wasn't going down without a fight. Unfortunately he had no idea how to get the disease out of his system. Not to mention he was currently in so much pain that he was having trouble seeing straight, let alone thinking clearly.

He now knew why the creature was able to freeze its victims so it could easily finish them off. In the heat of the moment when he had been fighting the wolf he had made up a spell on the spot. A spell that was the exact opposite of the beast. It was warm, strong, and full of life. In fact, within the flames that he had shot at it contained the essence of life. The creature drained life from its victims through the sickness that infected them. However, this time, Merlin didn't think that fire was going to help him. He could hardly set himself ablaze.

Merlin fingered the necklace that Mercy had given him once again. He remembered fondly the moment when she had handed it to him. It had been just as he and Arthur and Gwaine had been about to leave. Out of all the gifts that the people of Landar had generously bestowed upon him, this had to be his favorite.

"_Are you sure that you don't want to take any painkillers with you? Just in case?" Mercy asked._

_Merlin gave her a sad smile. "I wish I could, but the fallout of taking one would be far worse than the pain I'm in. I might as well free myself from temptation." Merlin bent down to lift up one of the bags so he could put it on the horse that the townspeople had provided, but Mercy beat him to it. _

_She hoisted the bag onto the horse and gave him a reproachful look. "Merlin, you shouldn't even be standing right now. That in itself is pushing my healing instincts; it's taking all my power not to force you to lie down. But you and I both know that you shouldn't be lifting anything right now. Your right arm may be almost back to normal by now since dislocations don't cause pain for too long, but you're still far too weak to be doing anything but resting. Come on, you told me that you are a physician's apprentice; you should know better than that." _

_Merlin couldn't help but smile fondly at the rebuke that reminded him so much of Gaius. "I guess I'm just having trouble breaking my servant habits. I'm not used to having other people do something for me," he defended lightly. That was the wonderful thing about Mercy; it was so easy to open up to her. Merlin couldn't remember the last time he had confided in someone as much as he had in Mercy over the past couple of hours._

_Mercy gave him a sad look. "You're so much more than a servant, Merlin." She shot a glance at Arthur who was talking with Jacob. "And one day Arthur will realize that. I can feel it. And then I know everything will be okay." _

_Merlin instantly felt a bit better. Mercy and her words of comfort were like a ray of sunshine after being in the dark for far too long. _

"_But until then," the healer continued with a glint in her eyes, "I want you to have this." She held out her hand and then opened it to reveal a small silver necklace. While the chain was simple, the pendant was very interesting. It was what looked like a small woven cage, masterfully carved. Merlin recognized it as the one he had seen on her when he had first woken up and just as before he felt the small glimmer of power inside it. His eyes were drawn to the whitish blue stone within the wooden cage and he felt his magic try to reach out to it. There was something about this simple, yet oddly powerful in a small way, stone that puzzled him and filled him with curiosity. _

"_It was given to me by my brother," Mercy said. "Several years ago, just after our parents died, he made the wooden egg, as I call it, to house this small stone. I don't know where he got the stone, but he said that it would bring me good luck and keep me from harm. I have worn it ever since that day and I can't help but feel like it protected me from the wolf, considering that I was one of the last to be paralyzed by it. Of course, there was some speculation among the villagers that the people who succumbed quickly to the beast's disease were those who were naturally depressed or weak. The rumor is that those who were strong, not just physically, and held on to hope and were full of life in some way were better able to resist the creature's magic. You see, the people who first became ill were loners, people who were sad and alone and seemed to be without any fight in them. But some of the happiest, most hopeful people I know didn't get sick 'til the very end. It's just a theory, but it makes some sense. But, personally, I like to believe that my brother's gift protected me." She held out her hand towards Merlin again. "Here, take it."_

_Merlin stared at the beautiful necklace that his magic was certainly drawn to and felt humbled and awed that she would give something so obviously precious to him. He shook his head. "I can't." Mercy's face fell. "It's beautiful, but I can't take something that you care about so much. I don't deserve it. This was from your brother, you should keep it."_

_Mercy slowly closed her hand around the necklace and looked straight into Merlin's eyes. "My brother gave me this to protect me. Now you're here and you saved me, saved us all, from the biggest threat we have ever encountered. I don't think I need this anymore," she said earnestly and sincerely. She lowered her voice. "But I know who you are and I've seen a glimpse of your life. You need this far more than I do. Yes, it does remind me of my brother and I love the warmth those memories give me. But you saved me and I know that my brother would give anything to pay you back for that if he could…so maybe he can through this." She spread out her arms and gestured to the houses around her. "This whole town has given you some token of their gratitude, now let me do the same." She opened her hand once more. "I know that today will not be the last of your pain. You will continue to suffer for years to come. My only hope is that this may lessen your pain as much as it can."_

_There was really nothing Merlin could say to that. He was honored that she would give this to him so he wouldn't insult her by refusing it a second time. "Thank you," he said as he reached out and took it hesitantly. He slipped it over his head and it slid down his neck. Immediately he felt the pulse of magic grow stronger and he looked down at it, liking the way it hung and it comforting weight it had. "Only if you're sure," he said._

_Mercy nodded in confirmation and smiled at the sight of it on him. "It looks good. I think it was always meant to be yours." Her eyes suddenly turned sad and she reached forward and gently hugged him. Merlin couldn't help but find it funny that he had gotten more hugs today than he usually got in a month. He should get permanently injured more often. _

_When she pulled away Mercy said, "I'm going to miss you, Merlin. You know, when I first saw you I thought you were my brother...coming back to save us. You actually look a lot like him." Tears began to well up in her eyes. "But it's your hearts that are the most similar. Luke always did everything for others, never even once thought for himself." Her face turned pained and serious. "And that's what got him killed. I know you would do anything for Arthur, Merlin, but I know the last thing he would want would be to be left without you. Take it from someone who knows…being the one left behind hurts more than dying. I hope neither you nor the prince ever has to go through that."_

"_So do I," Merlin replied seriously, but then his face brightened. "Thank you, thank you for all you've done. I owe you a lot."_

"_Not as much as this town owes you, Merlin," Mercy said and Merlin could see the tears of parting begin to leak back into her eyes. "I'll keep all your gifts safe until you come back, Merlin, I doubt you'll be able to carry them all with you now."_

_Merlin nodded his head in acknowledgment. "Assuming we come back from this quest alive." He turned his gaze away from Mercy and glanced around him, drinking in the harmless and peaceful village. But as he did so he caught a glimpse of something moving in the corner of his eye and he turned his head sharply to see it. Off in the woods surrounding the village he could see a figure, a very odd figure. It looked a lot like something he had once seen in one of Gaius' books. He squinted, trying to make it out, but then, right before his eyes, it vanished. _

"_I'm sure you will, Merlin," Mercy assured, bringing the warlock's attention back to her and away from what he thought he saw. "I have a feeling that you're a lot harder to kill than you look." Her voice turned thoughtful. "You said that you were trying to stop a great storm from destroying your home? Well, that might be the same storm that passed through here a couple of weeks ago. Only the outskirts of it touched us, but it was enough to nearly uproot houses. If the full force of the storm reaches your home there will be nothing left." A look of horror crossed her face as she realized for the first time how important their quest was._

"_Exactly," Merlin said grimly, forgetting about what he thought he had seen in the distance. "I just hope we can find a way to stop it, since it's obviously magical, in time. That's why we're looking for anything powerful enough to do this."_

"_Well," Mercy said pensively, "there are some old rumors of a device powerful enough to do anything, to destroy anything. If that is the device you're looking for then have hope. You're very close."_

And it was those last three words that did give him hope. They had very little time left. At best they had five days and even that would be cutting it very close. If they didn't find the object they were searching for soon…then Merlin's home and so many people that he loved, Gaius, Gwen, and others, would die. Merlin felt his resolve strengthen. He would not let that happen. He did not go through all of this just to fail. No matter what the price or how much pain he was in he _would_ save Camelot. The alternative was unthinkable.

* * *

><p>Gaius looked out over the kingdom of Camelot and heaved a sigh. He knew that wherever Merlin was he was doing his absolute best to save them all. But the storm on the horizon was far too close for comfort now and the people in the outlying villages had already been evacuated to the city.<p>

Gaius knew in his heart that Merlin wouldn't let them down, but he couldn't help but worry for the boy. He had had a well of dread inside him ever since Merlin had come to Camelot. Dread that his secret would be found out and he would be killed. But in the last year or so, ever since Morgana's disappearance and Merlin's confrontation with the Great Dragon, the dread in his gut had increased and continued doing so. Every day he got more and more afraid of what might happen to Merlin and he was starting to realize that it wasn't just fear. Surrounding Merlin there seemed to be a great sense of foreboding, as if something horrible and unspeakable were going to happen to him. And it was a feeling that Gaius couldn't shake.

But ever since the boy had left on this quest he had known, deep inside him, that this was the beginning of something terrible, something evil. Merlin had a big destiny, that was for sure, but Gaius was starting to realize that his destiny might be the end of him.

He could feel it in the small spark of magic inside him that something dark was coming and soon everything would come crashing down.

So he wished, he hoped, he prayed that his instinct might be wrong, that Merlin would be okay. Because the storm clouds brewing on the horizon of Merlin's future were far more frightening, far more destructive, and far darker than the ones currently traveling towards Camelot.

Gaius stared at the gathering clouds in the distance and shivered. He knew that they were an omen of things to come.

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><p>So, yeah, I didn't get everything that I wanted in this chapter, but I got enough. If my muse stays consistent for more than two days at a time the next chapter will feature a glimpse of Merlin's humanity, meaning that we'll see that he does have a breaking point. Also, it should have a brief end to Merlin's pain in there. See, I can be nice to him. So, please review and tell me what your favorite parts of this chapter was and if you see any typos then let me know. I try to always fix them, but sometimes I just don't catch them.<p> 


	11. A Quick Decline

I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry. I did not intend for this update to take this long. I'm sorry, again. I could give a dozen excuses, half of which are legit and the other half aren't, but you don't really care about that, do you? I will; however, say that I had to do some rewriting and a good portion of this chapter was quite difficult for me to write. Anyway, I'm so sorry for how long it's been, but unfortunately the next chapter will be awhile as well. I'm going on a trip in a few days and I'll be gone for nearly two weeks without internet and almost no free time on my hands whatsoever. And once I get back it'll probably take at least another week to write the chapter, so we're looking at three weeks before the next update. I'm sorry. Maybe it won't be that long, but I wouldn't count on it. Well, I hope you enjoy this chapter, 'cause I'm actually quite pleased with it.

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><p>Gwaine leaned his head back against the hard trunk of a tree and closed his eyes, inwardly sighing. He was starting to wish that he had never come along on this quest. Of course, it was wonderful traveling with Merlin and seeing him again, but after all that had happened since he had intruded on this mission he wasn't sure if it was worth it. For some stupid reason he felt like if he had never been there for any of the fights with monsters or other problems that they had had so far then maybe it wouldn't have happened. It was some ridiculous belief that if he wasn't there to witness it then it didn't exist.<p>

Naturally, he knew that the idea that his absence would have changed things for the better was illogical and completely unfounded. Still, it didn't stop him from feeling angry at his powerlessness. Time and time again during this quest he had watched Merlin save them and get hurt badly for it, and yet not once had he done anything for idiotic servant. His inability to do anything was angering and frustrating him and one look at Arthur was more than enough to tell him that he wasn't the only one who felt that way.

Both of them were itching to do something, anything useful to help Merlin, especially while Mercy had been taking care of him. But despite all their offers of help she had refused, saying that the cleaning and bandaging process was delicate and really only a one person job and standing by while being unable to help had only increased their frustration.

But it was when they had learned of the permanent condition of his arm that Gwaine had felt truly and utterly powerless, even more so than he had while paralyzed by the beast. What had happened to Merlin made him want to be violently ill. It should never have come to this, he knew, but looking back on it he wasn't really sure how it could have been avoided. Perhaps only if they had never come to the town, but then others would have died and Gwaine knew Merlin well enough to guess that he'd rather be permanently paralyzed over his whole body than for anyone else to have died.

But Gwaine had decided to ignore these feelings because he knew they were anything but useful at the moment. There would be plenty of time to feel guilty later. And so he was choosing not to think about what should or should not have happened or what he could've done. That wouldn't help Merlin now, and Gwaine was seriously worried about him. He looked exhausted and half-dead. Gwaine could only thank whatever good luck he had left that they had horses because it was obvious that the boy wouldn't have been able to walk, not that that would have stopped him from trying.

But the boy wasn't just suffering from pain. Everything that Merlin's body had been through lately seemed to be weighing so heavily on it that Gwaine was afraid that it simply didn't have much energy left. Merlin was beyond tired…he was nearly without life.

When they had finally stopped for the night Merlin, with the help of a silent Arthur, had slowly dismounted the horse with far more pained grimaces than Gwaine was okay with and had practically collapsed to the ground, curling in on himself. Arthur had built the fire while Gwaine had prepared the food. That night Merlin had hardly moved, had barely eaten anything and had said perhaps only a handful of words. It was becoming excruciatingly obvious that Merlin was losing awareness of everything in the haze of pain and sickness and…death that was overcoming him. Neither Gwaine nor Arthur had gotten much sleep at all that night, especially when Merlin began to whimper in thinly concealed agony as he slept fitfully.

Gwaine had dealt with his own anger and self-hatred and guilt, but it had been obvious that Arthur hadn't. Gwaine still remembered his conversation with Arthur.

_Arthur had hardly moved for hours so Gwaine was surprised when the future king got up and started walking away. As he passed him Gwaine grabbed his arm. "Where are you going?" he asked quietly, trying not to disturb Merlin's much needed sleep. _

_Without looking at him Arthur replied, "We need more firewood." He tried to pull his arm free but Gwaine wouldn't let him. _

"_We really should get going soon. Getting wood now would be pointless."_

_But Arthur stubbornly jerked his arm away and the drunk saw a flicker of rage in his eyes. The prince began to stalk off but Gwaine once again pulled him up short, but this time by his words. "I never figured you for the kind of royal to enjoy doing meaningless work, especially while on a quest."_

_The prince turned around to glare at him, but instantly Gwaine could tell that the anger really wasn't directed at him, but more at the situation. "Anything is better than just standing here and doing nothing while Merlin—" Arthur cut himself off and his gazed wandered to the motionless form near the dying fire. "If I stay still any longer I'll go insane," he declared. Gwaine could sympathize; he felt the same way. _

_Suddenly Arthur gave a grim chuckle and Gwaine wondered if maybe he had already turned nuts. "Besides, I think we might need the firewood anyway. Maybe we should stay here for a while." The prince glanced around him pointedly to indicate what 'here' meant. _

_Gwaine sighed and took a step towards Arthur. He knew exactly what was going through the prince's head; he could read the same conflicting emotions that he himself was battling with. "Arthur," he said slowly and with a lowered voice so as to not disturb Merlin's fitful slumber, "we can't afford to stay here; we don't have time. You told me yourself that Camelot only has a few days left. Every second that we waste is another second closer to Camelot's demise."_

_Arthur put his hand to his head and looked away. Even in the dim early-morning light Gwaine could see the frustration and guilt and despair bubbling beneath the surface. "Merlin might not have much time left, either," he said through gritted teeth. Gwaine got the feeling that the prince wanted to punch him._

"_You're right; he might not," Gwaine answered simply, trying to keep the both of them calm, "but face it. We're not physicians. For all we know if we stayed here Merlin could die anyway. Or he might not die at all. We don't know Arthur." Gwaine glanced back at Merlin and mentally kicked himself for what he was going to say next. "But we can't just stay here; we have to keep moving. Merlin is just going to have to hold on because right now Camelot is in danger. Merlin is one person who may or may not be dying, but there are thousands of people in that kingdom. People you've sworn to protect. Merlin is just going to have to deal with the pain."_

_For a split second Arthur's face was completely blank and then he lunged forward and punched him hard, right in the face. _

_Gwaine's whole head whipped to the side and he felt pain explode along his jaw, but oddly enough it didn't make him angrier. If anything, it calmed him down._

Gwaine had known that Arthur needed to let his rage out and so he had offered himself up as a punching bag. Merlin was the only person he'd even consider doing that for. All those years of being too drunk to see straight had somehow given him the ability to bury his anger, but the prince wasn't as disciplined. Naturally, most of the time Gwaine didn't care about holding back his rage, but in this case he had known it wouldn't help Merlin, only hinder. So he had riled Arthur up so that he could get him to focus on what mattered, which was to keep moving and pray to whoever would listen that Merlin would be all right.

"_Feel better?" Gwaine asked as he rubbed the sore spot on his jaw and glanced back at Merlin to see if the brief altercation had roused him. It hadn't. "Well, you have to," he continued, "because that was your only freebee." He looked back at Merlin once more. "I know how you're feeling, Arthur," he said slowly, this time with nothing but sadness and pain in his voice. "I keep watching Merlin_ _breathe in and out because I'm scared to death that he might stop." He turned his gaze on the prince. "I realize you're angry and you feel helpless, but we can't afford that right now. You're right; Merlin may be dying, but if he is there is nothing at all we can do for him. You specialize in killing and I specialize in getting drunk; the only healer here is him. But I know the last thing he would want is for Camelot to die because we hesitated for his sake. That w_ould_ kill him. _

"_I get that you hate yourself right now. Believe me, I do, too. But you have to squash those feelings because, right now, the only chance Merlin may have is if we continue moving and hopefully find someone who can heal him. Who knows? You said that the device we're looking is magical and it grants wishes. Maybe we can use it to heal him. We owe him that much. _

"_So if you have to take your anger out on someone then use me, or a tree, or anything else, but don't let Merlin suffer because of it." Gwaine knew what Arthur was going through and he knew how hard it was for him to know that whatever he did might end up killing Merlin, but he had to make him understand that this was the only way. This was their best chance of saving Merlin, because it would be obvious to anyone who looked at Merlin that there was something big wrong with him. It wasn't just his arm. He looked pale and sickly and he was beginning to wheeze. If he didn't get help, a miracle, soon he would most likely die. And there was no help for him in the middle of the forest, far away from any town or village. _

_Arthur looked at the ground and then at the surrounding tress, but he refused to even glance in either Gwaine's or Merlin's directions. Eventually, though, he raised his eyes to meet Gwaine's and the drunk could see that some of the anger had been defused. "I'm going to get more firewood," Arthur stated almost without any emotion in his voice. _

_Gwaine sighed as Arthur began walking off. Obviously his plan to convince Arthur hadn't worked. But then, just as he was about to return to Merlin's side Arthur called out without looking back, "And then we'll leave."_

Those four words brought a small glimmer of hope to flicker in Gwaine's chest. Merlin was shivering even as he lay by a warm fire and was covered in every blanket they had. Whatever was trying to claim his life was obviously succeeding. But now if they continued on he might have a chance. Truthfully, Gwaine didn't believe he was going to die; for all his frailty the boy was almost indestructible. Somehow he would make it through this…he had to.

Gwaine was still leaning against a tree, not having moved from the spot that Arthur had left him at nearly ten minutes ago. Desperately, Gwaine watched Merlin, hoping that he might glimpse some sign of improvement. At any rate, if he kept watching then nothing else could attack him and try to take his life.

Exhausted, the drunk rubbed his pained forehead as the headache that everything that had occurred in the last few days had caused increased. But as bad as the pounding in his head was he didn't doubt that the agony Merlin was currently going through was exponentially worse, judging by the wrinkle of pain in the manservant's forehead that was present even in sleep.

Gwaine was just about to get up and go to Merlin, when the lanky boy in question began to move. Shocked, Gwaine watched as slowly, very slowly, a groggy Merlin rolled over and sat up, still weighed down with a dozen blankets. Gwaine was surprised to see him awake and took a step forward only to catch a glimpse of Merlin's face, which was scrunched up in pain. Merlin's good arm went to his head, kneading it in an attempt to alleviate the obvious pressure and his injured arm twitched, trying to do the same thing. But as soon as the manservant's arm moved a small cry of pain escaped Merlin's lips and he doubled over.

Gwaine wanted to go to him and help him, but he knew there was nothing he could do and if he or Arthur were in Merlin's position and in that much pain neither of them would want useless comfort. They'd want a few minutes alone.

After a moment Merlin straightened up and after staring at his bandaged arm for a few seconds he slowly and carefully began to unwrap it. Gwaine's gasp at the horrific sight of Merlin's arm was only outshined and covered up by the boy's own.

Aside from there being huge, gaping teeth marks, which were already nauseating enough, the skin of Merlin's arm was bright red. But the scariest thing was the patches of green and red darker than blood that pulsated and glowed even as they throbbed, no doubt causing Merlin more pain.

All Gwaine had to do was take one look at the pulsating light coming from Merlin's injured arm and he knew that this was more than just any ordinary infection. It was a magical infection. And it was not something that could be cured by any ordinary medicine.

Merlin wrapped it up again and then, after taking a deep breath, tried to flex the fingers of his injured arm. This time Merlin cried out even louder and he pulled up his knees and wrapped his good arm around them.

Gwaine watched the boy bury his head in his arm, effectively curling himself into a tight ball. And Gwaine watched and witnessed, just as he had been doing far too often lately, as Merlin's thin frame began to shake and heave slightly as small sounds that even the brusque man recognized as sobs drifted towards him. Merlin was crying.

Despite the fact that he had only met Merlin a few months ago he already felt like he knew him. But through all the difficult and stressful situations that the two of them had been in together in that short amount of time Gwaine had never once seen Merlin cry or shed the tiniest tear. He knew Merlin probably felt deeper emotion than all the knights of Camelot put together, but Gwaine had somehow never imagine that Merlin would ever, could ever, cry. And seeing Merlin's small body tense in an effort to stop its shaking felt like a spear had gone through his heart. Even while in emotional agony Merlin was still trying to hold himself together.

Gwaine knew why Merlin was crying. Merlin had been through so much in the last couple of days. Creature after creature had attacked them and it had been solely upon Merlin's thin shoulders to save them all from the beasts. The manservant's world was crashing around him. His home and all the people he loved were in life-threatening danger and, currently, he had no way of knowing if they were even alright. For all they knew Camelot was already destroyed. He had just learned that a whole village of innocent people had been terrorized by a monster for weeks and that many had died and it had, once again, been up to Merlin to save them. They had no idea if they were even close to the magical device they sought or even if they could manage to somehow turn it off. And Merlin was in pain, a lot of pain and he had just learned that his arm would probably never fully heal or return to the way it was again. And worse yet the boy had seen the magical infection in his wound and he had most likely come to the same conclusion that Gwaine had. Merlin didn't have a lot of time left and if they didn't get a magical miracle soon then he would die, slowly and painfully.

Merlin's whole life was in an uproar and the boy had given everything he had for this quest and for the people he loved. There just wasn't anything left for him to give and now it seemed that he would die without ever seeing the people he cared for back home again.

The sobs of the man before Gwaine wasn't that of a prideful man in self-pity or even that of someone who was scared or sad. Those sobs and shakes were the sobs and shakes of someone completely broken, of someone who had given his all and now had nothing left for himself. Merlin was drowning in an abyss and he lacked the energy to even try to swim out.

More than anything Gwaine wanted to go to Merlin, to help him and comfort him, but he knew that he couldn't. It was obvious that Merlin didn't want anyone to see him crying. And even if Gwaine did try to comfort him it wouldn't work, there was nothing he could say or do to fix this problem, so any words he could offer up would be hollow and useless. So Gwaine stayed where he was, hidden amongst the trees, watching Merlin cry himself dry. And finally, after a few more minutes of the heart-wrenching, soul-splitting crying that hurt Gwaine more than any magical monster ever could, Merlin uncurled himself and straightened up and began to wipe his eyes. Merlin dried his tears and Gwaine glimpsed his face as the manservant's ever-present mask—though Gwaine hadn't been aware that it was there before today—slipped back into place. The drunk had never realized before now how skilled Merlin was at hiding his true emotions and feelings.

Suddenly Gwaine heard a rustling behind him and he swiftly, but silently spun around, his hand already going to his sword. But instead of some sort of enemy all he saw was Arthur with an armload of wood. But the prince wasn't even looking at Gwaine; he was staring at Merlin, whose face still prominently showed traces of tears. Arthur's face scrunched in pain for a brief moment and then suddenly it went completely blank. He turned his head to meet Gwaine's gaze and in a silent moment of exchange the secret noble told Arthur what he had missed.

Though Arthur's face was blank, his eyes weren't and Gwaine could see the pain in them increasing. They both knew that there was nothing they could do for Merlin except watch him suffer. So they did.

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><p>Arthur looked up at the sky. It was way past noon, but neither he nor Gwaine had had the heart to take the time to stop and eat. They were so low on time as it was so they weren't going to waste it for such trivial needs as lunch. Of course, just because the two men had no appetite they wouldn't deny Merlin food. They'd actually encourage it if Merlin were awake. Truthfully, the boy hadn't become lucid enough to form even a simple sentence for over five hours. He was getting worse, a lot worse.<p>

After Arthur had come back and seen the trails left by tears on Merlin's face he had been even more silent than before. Really, he had nothing to say. He felt powerless, weak, useless to help the one person in his life who had never stopped believing in him and had never failed to be there for him when he most needed it. But there was nothing he could do other than try to make the horses trot faster.

Like Gwaine, Arthur had never seen Merlin cry before, which was why it had come not only as a big shock to him, but it had also felt like a physical blow. Seeing Merlin in so much pain that he was unable to keep himself from breaking down reminded Arthur far too much of another time, a time when he had been in agony and had still remained strong. Even during horrible torture Merlin refused to break, so seeing him do so now truly opened Arthur's eyes to how bad things were and how great a toll everything had taken on him.

Merlin was the one stable thing in Arthur's life. He could always count on his strength and sarcasm and perpetual optimism. But now that was all gone and it felt like a chair had been kicked out from under Arthur. But that wasn't even the worst bit.

Over the last seven or so hours since they had packed up their small camp and had continued on their journey Arthur had observed Merlin grow rapidly worse. Perhaps only fifteen minutes in the saddle was when Merlin started to droop and his eyes went glazy again. Soon he began to shiver heavily and wheeze horribly. And then, once they had stopped brief to check on him, they had noticed that he was burning up and his skin felt like fire. The boy would begin to open his eyes and say something every now and again, but his eyes would sparkle with the unhealthy tint of the fever and he would hack and cough as soon as he opened his mouth.

Randomly, as Merlin, who was practically laying on his horse, would arch his back and called out words that sounded like gibberish, but whenever Arthur heard them they sent a chill up his spine. Every other hour or so Merlin's skin would change from being burning hot to icy cold and back again. Arthur and Gwaine found themselves constantly laying as many blankets as they could on him, only to remove them a few minutes later as his temperature drastically changed.

Gwaine had explained to Arthur what he had seen in Merlin's wound—how it was infected with what looked like powerful and dark magic. Gwaine had said,

"_The only hope Merlin has now is magic. I want you to know, Arthur, that if we get a chance to heal him we are going to take it. I don't care about your prejudices; whether it is someone or something we are going to use it to heal him. You're just going to have to put aside your hate because I'm _not_ going to let Merlin die."_

_Arthur sucked in a breath and quietly responded, "For once I agree with you, Gwaine. I made a promise. Merlin will get better, whatever it takes."_

Arthur was so far beyond caring about what he had been taught about magic his whole life at this point. Just watching Merlin deteriorate so quickly before his eyes was enough to break his spirit and his hope. But he had to believe that they'd find someone or something that could help Merlin, because the alternative was unthinkable. Merlin did not deserve to die this way; slowly and agonizing while he was still so young and innocent.

From what the villagers of the town had told him Merlin was displaying all the signs of the illness that had accompanied the beast. Everyone who had previous had it had been cured once Merlin had killed the creature, but for some reason Merlin was only getting sicker. Perhaps it was because the monster's sickening magic had entered Merlin's blood through the wound. But Arthur had been told by the villagers, especially Mercy, how painful and nightmarish the illness had been for those infected. Many had died screaming.

Arthur looked at Merlin for the fifth time in one minute. He was so scared that if he turned his head away for too long something even worse might happen to his servant. They had already had one horrible scare that day, they didn't need another. When they had been traveling for maybe an hour they had had to dismount their horses and lead them because they were crossing a stream full of slippery and unstable rocks. Merlin had been mostly unconscious for quite some time at that point and as the horse's movements became less stable and more rickety the boy's limp frame had begun to slide weightlessly off of his horse. If Gwaine and Arthur hadn't been dismounted and nearby when it happened Merlin would have fallen, head first, onto the hard stones of the riverbed. As it was Arthur had just barely managed to grab the boy in time.

After that near-death experience that Merlin had been completely unaware of, Gwaine and Arthur had immediately tied the servant tightly to both the saddle and the horse and their eyes had never strayed from him for more than a minute at a time. Arthur could still feel the fear and adrenaline in his system. If he had been even a few feet farther from him….

Arthur was beyond worrying about his appearances or the fact that he couldn't be seen caring about a simple, if idiotic, servant. He had dropped all pretenses of merely being the boy's master the moment he had seen the tear trails on Merlin's cheeks. He did; however, care if Merlin saw the raw emotion, no longer hidden, on his face. It wasn't that he didn't want Merlin to know that he cared, he simply knew how deeply he felt emotions and if the boy knew that Arthur was worried about him it would only make him feel bad. The last thing Merlin needed right now was to feel worse and Arthur knew that if the boy realized that he was causing anyone emotional pain it would hit him like a blow, especially in his weakened and delirious state. So Arthur kept his emotionless mask in place, just in case Merlin awakened long enough to look at him. Merlin's greatest strength was also his strongest weakness; his love. And Arthur would _not_ be the cause of anymore of that boy's pain.

Arthur glanced up at the sky again. It was getting dark and cloudy rather quickly. The prince hoped it wasn't going to rain soon because that would only make Merlin's condition worse.

Arthur, who was leading his horse again, lead it towards Merlin's and rested his hand on the servant's forehead to check his temperature. But as soon as he did the almost catatonic lad's eyes opened and he cried out in pain. Quickly, Arthur removed his hand and once he did Merlin's eyes slid shut again.

"What happened?" Gwaine asked, appearing by his side and looking beyond concerned and scared. They both were.

"I…I don't know," Arthur responded. Cautiously, Arthur reached out his and and laid it once more on Merlin's head. Again the servant's eyes flew open and this time Arthur could read the unmistakable pain and delirium in them. The hoarse scream that issued from Merlin's abused-from-all-the-coughing throat grated on Arthur's soul.

Arthur pulled away his hand sharply. "It's like even a simple touch hurts him," he remarked in a hollow voice. He knew Merlin and when he was in serious pain the idiot always tried to hide it. If his skin was that sensitive to the touch then sitting on the horse and even his very clothes must be causing him incredible pain. Maybe Merlin wasn't as unconscious as they thought; maybe he was simply using what tiny energy he had to hold in the pain.

Arthur felt his gut twist and for a few seconds he felt like he was going to throw up. The very idea of what Merlin must be going through right now made him sick.

"I never really agreed with your father's views on magic," Gwaine said as his stared at Merlin's shivering and sweating body. "Truthfully I never felt one way or the other about magic. I've never really seen enough of it to form my own opinions. But the creature that did this to Merlin had to have been evil to its very core to do a thing like this to anyone, let alone Merlin."Gwaine clenched his fists in anger. "Merlin doesn't deserve this. This shouldn't be happening."

Arthur started walking and leading his horse again as Gwaine led the other two. "No, it shouldn't." The prince really couldn't say more than that if he wished to hold in his anger and keep himself from hitting something, again.

"Did I ever tell you that Merlin was my first true friend? My only friend?" Gwaine asked without really expecting an answer. "I have no one to be loyal to but him. I owe him a lot. He didn't give up on me or shrug me off as nothing more than an obnoxious drunk. He was the first to ever do that."

Arthur looked over at Gwaine and then down at the ground, hiding his face. "Merlin was my first friend, too. He—" Arthur swallowed to get past the lump in his throat that came from both his ego and the thought that his friend might not be around for much longer. It was like two sides of himself were warring with one another. "I told myself that I had friends, people who were close to me, but I was just fooling myself. Any of the so-called friends I had were only there because they wanted to be on the 'future king's' good side. And I only wanted them there so I could show off my many skills." Arthur gave a short, humorless laugh. "But Merlin was my first friend and he has stayed that way, even when I wasn't a very good friend to him." Arthur ran his hand over his face in an attempt to compose himself. "You're not the only one who owes him." He shared a brief glance with Gwaine then turned his head away.

Arthur sped up. He wasn't used to feeling so many emotions at once. If this was what Merlin felt like all the time then Arthur finally understood all his bumbling around and being late and just overall lack of thought.

Arthur glanced upwards again and was surprised to see that the previously dark and gloomy clouds looked almost black and were thicker and heavier than any the prince had seen before. Suddenly a loud peal of thunder boomed and abruptly a torrent of rain came hurtling down from the heavens. Arthur was surprised at how hard the rain was. But if this rain felt a little uncomfortable to him…

At the same time both Arthur and Gwaine's heads whipped towards Merlin whose skin was more sensitive at the moment than a baby's. The manservant, still laying on the horse, started shivering harder nearly to the point of convulsing and his eyes were now completely wide and his mouth was open in a silent scream. The boy was in too much pain to even make a sound.

Arthur rushed over to him and threw several blankets over him. Even though they would still hurt his skin they would protect him from the harsher and more painful rain as well as keep him warm and dry for as long as possible. Merlin groaned, but at least now he could make some noise.

Lightening flashed and thunder cracked again and the rain began to fall harder and harder. It now felt like the rain was actually bruising Arthur. The prince had never been in such a strong storm with such harsh rain before.

Merlin screamed and Arthur cringed at both the horrible sound and the terrible memory it invoked. "Freya!" Merlin cried out and it sounded like his heart was breaking. The sorrow in his voice was unmistakable.

"We have to get to shelter!" Arthur yelled through the loud noise of the downpour to Gwaine as they both started practically running with their horses. Arthur's eyes darted around frantically, looking for someplace that could provide them protect from this violent onslaught. He didn't take the time to think about who Freya was or why Merlin had sounded so sad when he called out her name. Right now the only thing that mattered was getting them safe.

Another clap of thunder and a vicious and biting wind picked up and the rain pelted them harder still. It was obvious that the horses liked this even less than they did because they were neighing and tugging at their reigns and Merlin's horse even went as far as to try to buck the boy off. Arthur tried to hold the horse down but he couldn't control it and it looked like it was going to try to dislodge its passenger again when Merlin's weary head poked out of its blankets and bent to whisper something in the horse's ear. The exhausted and pained boy pulled back and said breathlessly, "Be calm." And just like that the horse stopped bucking and did exactly as Merlin said. Suddenly it was better behaved than the other two.

But again Arthur didn't stop to think about Merlin's strange actions; he was just grateful that the servant had managed to pull out of his delirium long enough to help them. Even now Merlin was trying to save their lives.

Arthur put one arm over his head to protect it from the rain that now felt as heavy and painful as large stones. It didn't take a genius to figure out that if they didn't get out of this storm soon they'd probably die, especially if it continued to get worse.

Suddenly the three men burst through some trees and Arthur found himself face to face with another horse, but it didn't belong to either Gwaine or Merlin. The horse reared its head in surprise and Arthur jumped back, startling his own horse. Arthur looked up at the rider of the animal and was shocked to see that it was some sort of soldier and a fairly young one at that.

The man's eyes flitted over their group expertly, a warrior looking for any threat, and after he assessed them for a moment longer he turned his head and called over his shoulder to another man behind him. "Cirrus, extend the field!"

The man named Cirrus replied, "I'll try, but I'm not sure if I can." The man began to mutter some words that Arthur couldn't make out over the din and suddenly the man's eyes flashed a dull gold. A brief flash of gold streaked over Arthur's head and the prince barely even caught it in the corner of his eye.

Abruptly the rain and the wind and the noise lessened. The wind went away completely and the rain changed to a light drizzle. But Arthur wasn't paying much attention to the changing weather. The second he had seen the gold in that man's eyes his training had kicked in and his hand had twitched to his sword. But for once Arthur's brain caught up with body and the prince realized exactly what this man was. He wasn't an enemy or something to kill, he was hope. More specifically, Merlin's hope. Arthur relaxed his hand.

"You have magic," he whispered, which no one seemed to hear, except Merlin, who stirred slightly.

The man on the horse that Arthur had almost run into and who seemed to be a captain locked eyes with him and said, "My name is Jonathon. You can tell me who you are later, but right now we need to get indoors. Cirrus' spell won't hold out much longer. Mount your horses; we'll need to ride fast."

Arthur did mount his horse, but there was a far more pressing issue than some spell. "That man, Cirrus, has magic?" he asked.

"Of course," the soldier replied quickly. He obviously wanted to get moving. "If he didn't none of us would be alive."

"My friend is sick, injured, he needs magical attention right away," Arthur said, gesturing to Merlin's prone form.

Jonathon looked towards Cirrus, who after a brief moment of consideration said, "I wish I could help him, I really do. Unfortunately my powers are almost completely spent and it's taking all my energy to protect us from the brunt of the rain. If I even attempted to heal so much as a scratch I'd only end up hurting your friend and knocking myself unconscious."

"And if he isn't awake to maintain the spell protecting us," Jonathon continued, "then we'd all be mashed to a pulp by the rain. Cirrus can't do any more than he's already doing right now, but if you follow us then we'll take you to the castle. There are many healers there who are more than able to help your friend. I'm sorry that we can't help now, but to even try could be fatal for us all. Your friend will just have to hold on." Jonathon really did seem concerned for Merlin, which surprised Arthur.

The prince met Gwaine's gaze and together they agreed. What Merlin needed right now was some very powerful healers. They would go with these people. Hopefully everyone else they would meet would be as nice as these two were.

Arthur glanced over at Merlin again. The boy was no longer convulsing in pain, which was a good sign, but he seemed even less alert now. He was sinking back into whatever dark place had been consuming him for the last six or so hours. But before Merlin's eyes drifted completely shut the boy mumbled one last thing. "Arthur."

The prince looked at his friend. "I'm here, Merlin, just hold on. You'll be back to annoying me in no time." Arthur turned his grim face away. He sincerely hoped that Merlin would be okay, but everything he had seen in the last few hours wasn't very encouraging. Merlin was seriously sick and he was fading fast. But some part of Arthur found hope in the fact that even mostly unconscious and in pain Merlin still said his name. Merlin was trying to hold on, Arthur could see that. He just hoped that they could get him to a healer soon enough. Arthur didn't know what he'd do if they were too late.

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><p>So I hope that was interesting enough for you. Once again, I am truly sorry for how long this chapter took me and for how far away the next one is. Since I'll be going soon would you please review and tell me what you like about this chapter? I could use something uplifting like that before I go.<p> 


	12. All that Matters

Now I know it's been awhile (it seems I'm always starting updates this way) but I have been truly busy. I won't bore you with some of the crappy details of my life. But with any luck this chapter is better because of it.

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><p>Merlin was hanging from a rocky ledge of a sharp and rigid cliff. His whole body ached and screamed with fiery pain and the warlock did his best to hold it in like he always had. He had learned long ago not to give in to pain and fear, no matter how horrible it might be. Even so, he knew he couldn't last much longer. Beneath him, swirling and sloshing noxiously, was an ink black and murky green ocean. But this water wasn't water. Green and black fumes rose up from the violently churning sea and where the foul mist touched Merlin it singed and burnt him like an acid. The roiling waves were spraying ever higher and higher as the current seemed to encourage the water's desire to drown the helpless boy.<p>

Merlin's hands were cracked and bleeding and were slowly, ever so slowly, losing their grip on the rough edge of the cliff that was all he had to hang on to. If Merlin fell now he would sink into that sickening water and would be swallowed up by it, never to return.

In the distance Merlin could see a sunset, but it wasn't the peaceful, beautiful, comforting kind. The sun was quickly dimming and disappearing and Merlin knew that when the last of the light melted away all hope he had would be gone. The darkness would consume him.

Merlin wasn't sure how long he had been clinging to the edge of this precipice, only that it was getting harder and harder every moment to hold on. He was in so much pain and he was so tired; part of him just wanted to let go and fall to what would surely be his death if only it meant some peace and rest. Despite his longing to give up he refused to and continued to hang on. He knew he wasn't capable of pulling himself over the ledge and onto firm ground for there seemed to be some invisible weight pulling him down towards the sea. And the weight was strong enough to prevent him from moving to safe ground. And it seemed every moment the weight was getting heavier.

But even though he had no idea how long he had been desperately holding on to this sheer cliff face, he did remember that several times during this torturous agony he had seen figures way off in the distance. And if he squinted at the figures long enough he would be able to recognize them as none other than his drunk and easy-going friend and the prince who was both his master and his brother. Arthur was the reason Merlin did everything, so it only seems fitting that he should be the very reason why Merlin _hadn't_ given up yet and surrendered to his doom. Arthur was an oblivious prat and as such he needed Merlin to protect him. And as long as Arthur needed his protection Merlin would always been there, or, at least, he would try his absolute and utter hardest to do so. But Merlin knew that despite his desire to stay to watch over and guard Arthur eventually, probably soon, he would be unable to hold on any longer. Already his mind was fuzzy from the agony and exhaustion. He didn't have long left.

The only way Merlin would be able to make it out of this alive would be if someone above him grabbed his hand and pulled him up. Merlin knew he only needed a little push, a little bit of help and then he would be able to make it the rest of the way and put the poisonous and violent sea behind him and he'd be able to run back to Arthur's side. But the sun was quickly losing its light. If someone didn't find him here soon then there would be no hope for him.

Beneath Merlin the foul water reached higher still in an effort to claim the life of its newest victim. Long shadows started eating along everything as the last rays of light began to slowly fade out of existence. He was running out of time.

"Arthur," Merlin whispered in a broken and hoarse voice, filled with pain and despair, "help me."

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><p>It would be hard for Arthur to describe the myriad of emotions that flowed through him when he heard Merlin's faint whisper. But the emotion that he would come to remember most whenever he thought back on it would be the complete and unbridled fear and terror that gripped him when he made out Merlin's words.<p>

"Arthur…help me."

The very fact that Merlin, in his current unconscious state was asking for help terrified Arthur. He had never heard the boy ask for help before like that in his life. Merlin wasn't asking for assistance in lifting something, no, he was begging Arthur to save him. Hearing Merlin say those words truly confirmed for Arthur what he had desperately been trying to deny. The servant was in trouble; he was dying and he knew it and he was asking perhaps the last person he should to save him.

And the other most prominent emotion that Arthur felt, hiding just beneath the fear, was a sense of warm satisfaction. Or happiness. Merlin was asking _him_, not anyone else, and somehow that gave Arthur a feeling of affection towards the boy. Dying, in pain, and being attacked by foul magic, Merlin called out to him for help.

"It's going to be okay, Merlin, it's going to be okay," Arthur said, hoping that his friend could hear him. But whether Merlin could or not didn't seem to matter because suddenly the servant jolted where he lay on his horse and began to convulse. Gwaine glanced back when he heard the noise and saw the horrific sight of Merlin shaking harder than anyone should be able to. Arthur and the drunk shared a panicked glance before Arthur turned his head and yelled over the din of the rain to Jonathon in front of him, "Merlin is running out of time!"

The soldier as well as the sorcerer Cirrus looked back and saw the sight they had. Worry and dread briefly flashed in Jonathon's eyes before they returned to their stoic normal. He nodded and said, "We're in a hurry; let's get back in record time." And with that he spurred his horse on and the creature surged forward in full gallop. It only took the others two seconds before they followed suit, Arthur's horse leading the one carrying Merlin.

From that point on Arthur didn't notice much of anything. All he saw was the horse in front of him that he was following and Merlin when he looked back every couple of seconds. At some point during their mad dash and amidst all the whipping wind and rain Arthur became dimly aware that they had entered a large city and were weaving in and out of buildings, but he paid no attention to them, just to Jonathon's horse. And perhaps five minutes into their frantic gallop the prince became aware that they were going uphill, but he truly only remembered that moment because that was when he noticed Merlin's shaking getting worse and when he heard a horrible, strangled gasping noise begin to come from him.

"Merlin! Hold on!" Arthur yelled back, trying desperately to keep the boy alive just a little bit longer.

Abruptly the ground underneath their horses' hooves leveled off and Jonathon pulled his to a stop. For the first time Arthur properly looked in front of him and he saw not ten feet away a huge gate looming over them with large spires from some sort of castle visible behind it.

Jonathon rode up to the closed gate and reached up and grabbed a string which was connected to a very large bell. He rang the bell, but it was clear that this wasn't any ordinary ring, but rather a sequence of short dings and long dongs.

After Jonathon had completed the obvious code he urged his horse back a few steps and then waited. They didn't have to wait for long; however, because in a moment the great gate doors swung inwards and once again the party surged forward.

In no time at all Arthur found himself dismounting in a haze and rapidly untying the struggling Merlin. Gwaine dashed over to help him and it was a good thing that he did, because Arthur wouldn't have been able to hold Merlin otherwise. The boy was completely thrashing now and the convulsions racked every inch of his body while he desperately gulped and gasped for air that he couldn't seem to get.

Arthur briefly touched Merlin's skin and gasped in pain, he felt like he had been burnt. But despite the dangerously high fever Merlin's skin was paler than Arthur had ever seen it. The prince felt something wet sink into his arm and he looked down to see crimson blood seeping from the wound in Merlin's arm.

After pinning down Merlin arms and legs very awkwardly Arthur found that he was finally able to carry him, but it was still very difficult. If it weren't for the fact that Merlin was hardly strong on a good day, let alone as weakened as he was now, Arthur never would have been able to keep ahold of him.

While Arthur and Gwaine had been frantically trying to subdue Merlin whose painful gasping seemed to be getting worse and worse by the minute, Jonathon had rushed up to a door and knocked on it. A small slot in the door slid back briefly before whoever was on the other end decided to open the door. Then Jonathon looked back at them just long enough to catch their eyes and then he strode quickly through the door, with them following.

Finally they stepped out of the pouring rain and into a humongous entryway whose ceiling was high enough for a dragon to come in and be comfortable. But again, Arthur didn't pay any attention to his surroundings. Merlin hardly seemed to be getting any air at all now.

Jonathon led them rapidly down the long hallway, but just before they were about to turn down a small corridor a female's voice called, "Stop."

They all turned around to see a tall and beautiful woman in a flowing gown behind them. "Jonathon, what's happening?" she asked. But before anyone could answer the most horrible noise Arthur had ever heard and a sound that still frequently haunted his dreams pierced the still air and everyone turned, horrified beyond belief to stare at Merlin's convulsing body. Merlin had screamed. But just like all those years ago it wasn't any scream. Some people can scream easily, whether in pain or fear or surprise, but Merlin wasn't one of those people. Merlin never screamed, so when he did it was the sound of ultimate suffering and everyone who heard it knew it. There was no mistaking that noise for anything other than the worst sound any of them would ever hear.

For only two seconds the gorgeous woman just stared in speechless dismay and then her face hardened and she turned to Jonathon. "Go, take him. I'll go get the rest of the healers." And then she strode speedily away.

Jonathan himself wasted no time and before Arthur knew it they were in a warm room that had cots lined against the walls and two people sitting at a table. When the man and the woman saw them rush in they immediately jumped to their feet.

"Where?" was all Jonathan asked. The woman pointed to the cot closest to them and Arthur, with great difficulty, lowered Merlin on to it. The prince soon realized, however, that he would still have to hold Merlin to keep him from harming himself.

"What's his injury?" the man asked as the woman began grabbing some items.

"A bad arm wound that got infected with evil magic that is now killing him," Gwaine answered, bending down to help Arthur in his attempt to still Merlin.

"Incidere," the woman said as she returned and her eyes briefly turned gold as a long line was cut in Merlin's shirt and jacket by the spell, but by this point Arthur was beyond caring about magic.

The woman pulled aside the cut pieces of clothing and gasped at the sight. Arthur had been expecting bruises from their encounter with the giant spider and the beast, but what he saw was far worse than anything inflicted by those creatures.

Peppering his chest in a thick layer were hundreds of small, inch-sized bruises that altogether covered almost every bit of visible skin. And as Arthur looked closer he realized that the deep blue and purple bruises had been made by raindrops.

But Arthur knew that as harsh as that unnatural rain had been there was no way he himself was bruised this heavily, so the only explanation for Merlin's horrible bruises was the unusual sensitivity of his skin to anything that touched it. Arthur felt like he was going to throw up and the feeling only got worse as he realized that Merlin had been leaning on his horse, meaning that it was his back and his back alone that had been taking the brunt of the rain. In fact, the only time that Merlin's chest would have been exposed to the water was when Arthur had carried him from his horse inside the castle. But that had been barely a minute and by then the sorcerer Cirrus had long since cast the spell that protected them from the brutality of the rain. So if this was what Merlin's chest looked like after only being touched by the rain for a few seconds, then what did his back look like?

But that wasn't even the worst part. Crisscrossing his body over and over again were horrid black veins that pulsed with every heartbeat. These lines seemed to be growing along his body.

This time Arthur really was ill and he turned to the side and threw up in a bucket that was conveniently near him. The prince briefly wondered if it had been conjured by magic, but he truly didn't care. He went back to holding down Merlin, but now he was completely aware that his restraining hands were most likely bruising his friend.

The woman reached down and lightly touched Merlin's chest, but then she yelped and pulled her hand away. Arthur could tell by the look on her face that she hadn't pulled away because of how hot his skin was. She turned, horrified, to her partner. "This is foul magic. We're not strong enough to wipe it out."

Just then Arthur heard a noise and he turned his head to see the tall beautiful woman from before lead five people, three women, two men, into the room.

"I thought you might need them," the lady said with a smile, but it was completely humorless.

The man gestured and nodded and said as he turned back to Merlin, "We need help cleansing this man's body of dark magic. It's very powerful, so be wary."

All of the seven healers knelt down next to Merlin. The first woman put her hand on Arthur's shoulder. "It's okay, we've got him. You can let go."

Arthur didn't want to let go of Merlin or back away. He felt like if he did the last thing tethering the boy to this life would disappear and he would be gone. But logically the prince knew that these people were going to save Merlin and they needed him out of the way for that. Reluctantly Arthur pulled away and went to stand next to the lady and Gwaine.

The first time the seven of them touched Merlin they flinched and pulled back, all except the woman who had been here since the beginning, she knew what to expect. "Be strong," she said and the six of them hardened their faces and placed their hands on Merlin. One of the men pulled up the sleeve on Merlin's injured arm and his face twisted slightly in revulsion at what he saw. The arm was a spider web of the dark lines that surrounded the original wound and seemed to be stemming from it. The wound itself was bleeding heavily now and the blood was tainted black.

The man placed his hand on Merlin's arm and sucked in a sharp breath at whatever he felt and then he closed his eyes. Arthur looked around at the circle of healers whose eyes were all closed and found that he didn't even have it in him to be surprised when at the same time each one of them began to mummer something different in an unknown language. He couldn't even feel any fear or hatred when he saw a few of their eyelids flutter open and a hint of dull gold could be seen. Nothing mattered to Arthur anymore. Not magic, not his pride or what he had been taught. All that mattered was Merlin, which was why he didn't even try to make out what they were saying. If it didn't come from Merlin then his ears didn't care.

Suddenly Merlin's gasps were cut off and he began to foam at the mouth, but the healers' only response was to say their spells louder. "Merlin! Don't you give up!" Arthur yelled, frantically trying to get the boy to hold on. "Fight it!"

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><p><em>For some time now the cliff edge that Merlin had been hanging onto had been trying to shaking him off. Everything, the sky, the trees, the water, the cliff, and even the last few rays of the sun seemed to be shaking as in an earthquake. Merlin was only hanging on with one arm now; he no longer had the strength to hold on with two. The warlock knew this was it. He was dying. His destiny would crumble. <em>

_More than anything Merlin wanted to be by Arthur's side and protect him, but even he had his limits and he had reached them a long time ago. The pain he was feeling was beyond pain and every second he felt himself getting more and more exhausted. He was drained. There was no more fight left in him. He had nothing left to give. _

"_I'm sorry, Arthur," Merlin whispered. This was it, the battle he would lose. And he was going to stop pretending that he could win. He just wanted the pain to end and the only way for that to happen would be to let go. To give in. He just hoped Arthur would understand; that he wouldn't hate him for leaving. Merlin closed his eyes and in his mind he could see Arthur on a normal day, throwing goblets at him, yelling pretend threats, calling him an idiot because that was the only way he could express what he truly felt. Merlin smiled and let go._

_Suddenly a hand appeared from above and grabbed his. Merlin's eyes flew open and he stared into the blue orbs of Arthur's. The prince smiled and grabbed Merlin's arm with his other hand. "Merlin, don't you give up. Fight it." And then Arthur pulled Merlin up and the boy found a foothold. Suddenly the comforting and helping hands disappeared, but it was enough. Merlin felt a new burning strength flood through him and he looked up the few feet of sheer cliff wall that was all that separated him from solid ground. No, he was not done today. He would not give up. Arthur had given him the push he needed and he would not disappoint him. It was his destiny to do impossible things and win impossible battles. What was a little bit of climbing in comparison? _

_Ignoring the angry and violent water below Merlin began to climb towards the top, towards Arthur, towards his destiny. The pain and exhaustion and even the earthquake was gone. He was Merlin and he was not finished today._

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><p>Arthur's very short finger nails dug into his arm and at some point they began drawing blood, but the prince didn't notice. He couldn't lose Merlin. Not now. Not ever.<p>

Merlin was dying right in front of him and there wasn't a bloody thing he could do and it made the prince want to scream. And perhaps worse these people didn't seem to be able to do anything either.

But despite Arthur's doubt after a minute or so Merlin's convulsions slowed and he stopped foaming, but by this point the healers were sweating and already looked exhausted and their faces were scrunched up in pain.

And then something that Arthur would never forget for the rest of his life happened exactly five minutes after they had started their healing. Actually, three things happened at once. First, Arthur saw Merlin's back arch and heard another blood-curdling scream and the prince's heart stopped. Then he saw all seven of the healers' heads whip back and their eyes opened and Arthur saw the purest gold he had ever seen glowing in them. And then a sharp wind that came from nowhere picked up as the healers' hands all suddenly clasped and together, as one, they all said, "Heal."

A great golden light seemed to burst out of their circle and for a moment Arthur couldn't see anything but that. But as soon as the light had appeared it vanished, leaving the healers strewn across the floor and Merlin still upon the bed. The wind was gone and everything was still and dark.

"Merlin!" Arthur cried and ran to the boy's side. For one terrifying second Arthur thought his servant was dead, but as he put his hand on Merlin's chest he felt its distinct rise and fall. But even more miraculous than Merlin finally no longer shaking was when he lifted his hand and looked at the boy's chest to see that the deep bruises and the dark lines had vanished completely.

Quickly, Arthur pulled up the sleeve on Merlin's injured arm and instead of gazing at a gruesome wound that would have lasting damage he saw smooth, clean skin that was completely unmarred except for a thin, white line that was as long as the gash had once been. Glancing again at Merlin's chest, Arthur could see that there wasn't so much as the tiniest bruise or cut visible. Merlin was completely healed.

Arthur turned to look at the first woman, who seemed to be recovering from whatever had knocked her down, and said, "You healed him. Is he going to be fine?"

She reached up and placed her hand on Merlin and after a moment she replied, "Yes, yes he will be."

For what seemed like the first time in years Arthur felt like he could breathe again. He put his face in his hands and tried to contain the overwhelming joy he felt. He pulled his hands away and laughed breathlessly.

"Thank you," he said earnestly, grinning at them. "Thank you all." He gave another laugh. _Merlin is going to be okay! _ He thought. And then, _I am going to give him so many chores when we get home. That will teach him to worm his way into my heart and then scare me like this. _

Arthur glanced at the peaceful and pain-free look on Merlin's face and he felt like that was the absolute best gift he could have been given. Merlin was safe. The biggest idiot in the world was safe. The prince didn't know how the imbecile had done it, but somehow Arthur had gotten attached to him. If Merlin had died Arthur didn't know what he would have done. It was like he was connected somehow to Merlin. The idea of losing him was unthinkable. Arthur was strong and he could handle a lot, but losing Merlin was the one thing that would break him.

Arthur didn't care that he had employed the use of magic to save Merlin or that he had essentially committed treason. Merlin was safe, and that was all that mattered.

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><p>I had intended for this to be longer, but you would have been waiting a lot longer for it, so I decided to end the chapter here. I'm hoping to update within a week, but tomorrow is my birthday so that might change things. However, at least I got this done before tomorrow, that was my plan. Oh, and a shout-out to all of my favorite authors, if you could please update tomorrow I would be much obliged. Please review.<p> 


	13. A Touch of Magic

Normally I thoroughly proofread every chapter before I post it in the hopes of catching any mistakes; however, right now I don't have the time to do so. I am going on a sleepover and therefore won't be able to edit this until maybe 24 hours from now. And since this chapter is already finished it seems like such a waste to have to make all of you wait. So I apologize for any mistakes, but I assume that a slightly rougher draft is better than no chapter at all. Please enjoy.

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><p>"You are more than welcome," the first female healer said, "it was our honor to help your friend."<br>She gave a warm, if a bit exhausted, smile. Clearly the healing had drained her. "Oh, and my name is Lana and I am the chief magical healer here."

Arthur nodded his head in recognition of her title. "I can't thank you enough for saving Merlin," Arthur turned to look at the rest of them. "All of you. I owe you more than I can say."

"I'm Gwaine," the charming man said sounding happier than Arthur had ever heard him sound. "He's right," Gwaine nodded in Arthur's direction, "thank you so much. Merlin is my best friend."

The recovering healers smiled and Arthur could see that they were genuinely joyous at being able to save the life of someone they didn't even know.

Arthur realized that he hadn't introduced himself yet and that was incredibly rude. "And my name is Ar—" Arthur stopped. These people would most likely deduce that they weren't from around here and couple that with his name and they might realize who he truly was. They'd have no reason to recognize Merlin's or Gwaine's names, but many people had fled to this place because of the Pendragons. Magic was clearly used frequently here and he doubted that they'd so much as give him a trial before they killed him. And the worst part would be that they wouldn't care how good or innocent Merlin or Gwaine were; they would execute them just for traveling with the son of Uther. No, Arthur couldn't give his true name, but he didn't want to sound suspicious by changing his name to something completely different. He'd have to say a name that began with the letters he had already said. So he said the first name that came into his head.

But, unfortunately, Arthur said the worst name he could have said other than his own. It wouldn't mean anything to them, but it held some very unpleasant memories for Arthur. "Arcturus," Arthur finished, "my name is Arcturus." Arthur felt his gut twist in horror and he wanted to kick himself for practically telling people to call him that. His eyes, just barely able to mask the dismay that was swirling inside them, drifted to Merlin. If this name would hurt him what effect would it have on the servant? Merlin had suffered so much more at the hand of Arthur's new namesake.

All this thinking, deducting, and then horror had taken only mere seconds, though it felt much longer to Arthur, so when he turned his head to look at Gwaine he saw the understanding, but slightly questioning gaze in his eyes. But it was obvious from the reassuring look that he gave the prince that he wasn't going to ruin anything by inquiring about it now.

"Well, it was my pleasure to meet you," Jonathon said and Arthur turned around to meet his gaze. He had nearly forgotten about the man who was responsible for getting them here and therefore also someone who had saved Merlin. Arthur couldn't help but smile at the kind man who hadn't even asked who they were. "I'd love to see him wake up and see that he's okay, but I have duties to attend to," Jonathon continued. "I'm glad that we managed to get him here in time." Arthur saw genuine kindness and compassion behind the soldier exterior this man felt he had to put on. It reminded Arthur of his own knights and made him feel far more comfortable with Jonathon than he normally would have.

"Thank you," Arthur said. He sincerely owed all these people Merlin's life, which, only in times like these did he truly realize how much that meant to him. Already the prince could feel his pride trying to resurface and place a mask in front of all of his caring and love. It seemed Merlin nearly had to die in order for him to admit to himself his true emotions. Arthur felt a sudden surge of self-loathing.

"Of course, I am very happy that your friend will be fine," Jonathon said and then dipped his head slightly in respect and then turned to a man behind him. In all of the panic and confusion in fear that only had left this place within the last few minutes Arthur had completely forgotten about Cirrus and hadn't realized that the sorcerer had followed them in. Looking at him now, leaning heavily against a wall and seeming utterly exhausted, it was clear that he was barely managing to stay on his feet, yet still he was here. Arthur felt a burst of warmth for this strange sorcerer, who, like everyone here, seemed to have no desire to hurt people or gain power.

"Cirrus," Jonathon said with a kind, but stern tone in his voice, "I am going to deal with matters and you need to go to bed." The young magic user opened his mouth to protest but Jonathon wouldn't let him. "You're completely spent. You obviously don't even have the energy to stand on your own." The soldier's tone softened slightly and Arthur saw a mirror image of Merlin's and Gaius' relationship. "You have done a very impressive job today and you even assisted in saving a life. But I know that if you don't get some sleep soon you'll keel over on your own and you'll most likely wind up sick. It's my job to make sure that you don't kill yourself with some sort of foolish move and you'd make it a lot easier if you just accepted when your body's had enough."

Arthur felt a strange sense of Déjà vu and he realized that this is what he would imagine Merlin and his relationship to be like if they were equals. Merlin being stubborn and selfless and Arthur being forced to look out for him because he wasn't smart enough to do it on his own. Of course, there would probably be a lot more bantering involved then there seemed to be with these two.

Cirrus closed his eyes tiredly and nodded. "All right. I'll get some sleep."

But when the sorcerer made no move to leave Jonathon asked kindly, though, with a bit of amusement in his voice, "Do you need help?" Again Cirrus nodded and Jonathon just gave a throaty chuckle and then put the sleepy man's arm over his shoulders and began to walk away, supporting him. Arthur found the sight a warming one.

Then Arthur heard a faint rustling behind him and automatically he whirled around. The sight that met him was one that he would return to in hard times to remind himself that good things do happen and hope is not futile. Merlin sat up and opened his eyes and for a tiny second Arthur thought he saw gold, but he didn't give it even half a thought.

"Merlin!" he cried. He felt both irrational fear and joy as he ran to Merlin's side and put his hand on the shoulder of the very dazed-looking servant.

"W-what?" Merlin asked and it looked like his eyes were having trouble focusing. "What happened?"

"You nearly scared us to death, that's what happened," Gwaine said with barely concealed anger and joy, an odd combination, and Arthur wondered when the man had knelt down on Merlin's other side because the prince hadn't noticed.

Arthur was overjoyed that Merlin was awake, and yet he couldn't help but be worried that Merlin wasn't as healthy as he seemed or that the near death would leave invisible scars on Merlin's body. He had more than enough of the visible ones. But Arthur just had trouble believing that with or without magic Merlin's body and mind could be completely recovered from what it had just gone through. That kind of near death and pain and dark magic had to have some sort of lasting effect. Still, though, Arthur sincerely hoped that Merlin was truly fine, because other than seeming a bit out of it the boy seemed healthier than the prince could ever remember seeing him.

"I…I don't understand," Merlin said in response to Gwaine's unhelpful explanation. "Last thing I remember was falling asleep on my horse. I didn't feel good at all and I thought some sleep would help." Merlin looked properly at Arthur now that his eyes seemed capable of obeying his commands and the crowned prince didn't miss how the boy's eyes briefly roamed over him as if to make sure that he was okay. There was some sort of loyalty that Merlin had towards Arthur that he couldn't understand. It was almost as if Merlin considered it his job to protect the princely prat. "Where are we?" Merlin asked of his master and friend.

Before Arthur could answer Lana stepped forward and answered for him, which was probably a good thing since he didn't even know where to start explaining all that had occurred while Merlin had been unconscious. "You're in BrightBrook castle in our infirmary. Myself and six other magical healers just barely managed to get to you in time before some very foul and paralyzing magic claimed your life. But you're healed now and your life should no longer be in danger. You're safe now." She smiled.

Merlin took a moment to process her words and then suddenly his face went very blank and he practically lunged at his arm, which actually looked rather hilarious, and ran his hand across the skin that only barely showed any sign of an injury. His face betrayed undisguised awe, happiness, disbelief and also a kind of sadness that seriously confused Arthur. "But…" Merlin gazed up at Lana with a hopeful but also unbelieving look in his eyes. "How? It was permanently damaged. I thought—I thought I wouldn't be able to use it properly again. The amount of power that it must have taken to heal me and repair that kind of damage to my arm…" Merlin trailed off and then he glanced around at the seven healers. It can't have been easy for you. Thank you so much. I-will it work like it used to?" The pure awe and indescribable joy on Merlin's face warmed Arthur's heart and began to wash away all the pain and horror that they had experienced on this trip.

Lana grinned and Arthur could tell that, like everyone else he had met here, she was truly glad to be able to help someone. "It will work perfectly," she replied and Arthur watched as Merlin gazed at his arm in wonder and rapture.

"I-I don't know what to say," Merlin said and Arthur couldn't help but smirk slightly at that. Figures that the only way to shut the boy up would be to perform a miracle.

"Then don't say anything," another woman whose name Arthur hadn't heard said. She had a quiet, soft voice that one couldn't help but associate with someone kind and compassionate. "You've been through a lot and we nearly couldn't save you at all. It was our pleasure to help, but you have to take it from here. Your body is healed, but it is also very tired and if you don't take very good care of yourself you're likely to get sick. And for several days you might be feeling ghost pains or exhaustion because your body hasn't realized that it's healed yet."

Arthur felt his stomach sink a little. He wasn't entirely sure what they meant by ghost pain, but any type of pain, no matter how slight, was something that Merlin shouldn't have to go through. He was tired of Merlin being sick and injured and in pain, and, most of all, he was sick of his life hanging in the balance.

"Artice is right," Lana said, "any strain to you right now might make you worse."

Merlin seemed like he was going to reply but then they all heard a voice coming from the doorway and they looked over. "Which is why I have already arranged rooms for the three of you to stay in." It was the beautifully-dressed lady that had brought the other healers earlier. Arthur hadn't even noticed when she had left so he was surprised to see her return. At her side was a young man who, judging by his clothes, was a servant. "Tom here will show you to your rooms, which are side by side. I don't doubt that after everything you have been through you are exhausted and need a hot bath and plenty of rest. Because of everything I haven't had the time to introduce myself properly, but I am the Lady Risa, Queen of Brightbrook castle and my husband and I would love it if all three of you would join us for dinner, which is in a few hours." Immediately upon hearing her title Gwaine and Arthur got to their feet and bowed and Merlin attempted to do the same, only to be stopped with a hand on his shoulder by Lana.

The Lady Risa smiled and though Arthur felt a bit uncomfortable with her because of the aura she had surrounding her he could tell that her heart was good, even if those piercing eyes that seemed to swirl with blue and green tones gave him the feeling that she could see into his soul. "Now, my husband and I will understand if the three of you are too tired to come to dinner; I know you have been through a lot, so it is up to you. If not tonight then we could do it another night."

Arthur was tired. After everything that had transpired lately and all the fear and worry and mad dashes he was worn out. But at the same time seeing Merlin awake and recognizing that old familiar gleam in his eyes that always told him that he was full of life gave Arthur a kind of new energy. It was only in disastrous times like these that the prince truly realized how much he depended and drew strength from Merlin. And now watching the boy almost burst with joy at realizing that his arm, along with the rest of him, was going to work just as well as it always had made Arthur feel like he could face anything. He could handle a dinner.

The knight of Camelot shared a brief look with Gwaine and they both seemed to have arrived at the same conclusion. As one, their heads turned to Merlin with a clear question in their eyes. Whether they had dinner with the nice royal couple that _slightly _intimidated Arthur was up to the manservant, because, really, after everything he had been through he had the right to choose.

Apparently having read the choice in their eyes Merlin took a few seconds to think, a few seconds to discover how he felt. Then Merlin looked up at Risa and said, "It would be our honor to join the two of you at dinner tonight."

Risa gave another one of those pleasant and perfectly genuine smiles that still managed to make Arthur feel uneasy and then she turned and left. Tom stepped forward. "I can show you to your rooms. Everything has already been prepared and I'm sure that you'll find whatever you need within the rooms. Will you please follow me?"

Arthur and Gwaine bent down and together they helped a slightly indignant Merlin to his feet. "Hold on for a moment," Lana said, "I would like to talk to Merlin for a minute and give him some potions that would be useful should he start feel any pain or nausea. I just want to make sure that he's going to be fine. The two of you can go with Tom, I'll show Merlin to his room when we're done." Lana looked expectantly at Arthur and Gwaine, and, despite the fact that they didn't want Merlin out of their sight for even a second, they went with Tom. Arthur knew full well how private Gaius could get with his patients and he supposed that it had to be common among physicians.

So, reluctantly, Arthur and Gwaine left Merlin alone with the healers. _Merlin, please be okay, _Arthur thought. _Only you would be capable of getting into trouble surrounded by physicians, so just don't. Please just worrying me for five minutes. _

Arthur wasn't too worried about Merlin, but after all the scares and close-calls the boy had had lately he honestly wouldn't be surprised if something did happen. It was like the boy attracted trouble. And that's why Arthur didn't want to leave his side; because he was the best shot Merlin had at being safe. Nearly losing Merlin today would take a long time to recover from. In fact, much like certain events that had taken place not long after meeting Merlin, Arthur knew that the idiot almost dying twice so far on this quest and then how far he had been willing to go to save him would be burned in the his memory forever.

* * *

><p>Merlin watched his friends leave and he truly hoped that he would see them in a few minutes. He wasn't exactly sure how long he had been unconscious, but he knew it had been far too long. In his heart he could feel that he missed them and his magic was screaming to be closer to Arthur. Any amount of time spent unconscious or away from Arthur always set his magic into a frenzy. Most mornings he would wake up with it buzzing to get back to protecting its destiny. And right now it was fully aware of how it had been attacked by dark magic and because of that it had left Arthur vulnerable. His magic wanted to get back to its post and so did Merlin, though, really the two were the same thing.<p>

Merlin knew that his magic responded to his emotions above all else and most definitely above any verbal command. Merlin would do anything to protect Arthur, including giving his life for him, which meant that his magic felt exactly the same way.

Merlin still felt rather confused. His head still seemed fuzzy. Everything was strange and ne for him. Like he had told Arthur, he really didn't remember anything since he had passed out. There were a few vague, odd dreams that felt important to him, but he couldn't quite grasp at the moment. But he did know that someone had reached down through the thick layer of fog that was his dreams and had pulled him out.

But more than anything he was shocked at how Arthur had allowed magic to be used to save him. And then there was that look in his eyes as if he truly cared, as if he had been really worried about him. Merlin didn't doubt that Arthur cared some, but he hadn't thought that the prince cared enough to show it so clearly as he had. Merlin had seen real pain Arthur's eyes, the kind of pain he only saw when Gwen or Morgana or Uther were in trouble. But Merlin had never really seen that pain expressed for him, except not long after they had first met. But, then again, watching someone get tortured could have that effect on people.

So to see how far Arthur had been willing to go to save him and to notice the worry written plainly on his face both calmed and agitated Merlin. For one, he had hoped to be the last person to cause Arthur pain. And part of Merlin couldn't honestly believe that what he had seen was real. Maybe his eyes had just played tricks on him. Merlin wasn't sure if he could believe that Arthur cared that much, because if he let himself feel that hope and it turned out that he was wrong, the hurt would kill him. He'd rather know the truth now, however painful it was, than believe a false hope. Arthur had made it clear that, yes he did care about Merlin, but no, it wasn't nearly how much Merlin cared for him. Merlin considered Arthur to be a brother in so many ways, but Arthur would never see his servant that way. And that hurt enough now so he couldn't even imagine how much pain he'd be in if he allowed himself to be fooled into thinking otherwise.

But Merlin shouldn't be focusing on things like this, that was only going to make him feel worse and right now his magic and his body were greatly aware of how close they had come to fading away forever. Merlin turned his attention to Lana.

"How are you feeling?" she asked kindly.

Merlin took a moment to genuinely consider the question. "Rather tired and my arm feels tingly, but nothing to complain about," he answered.

"Good." Lana set a look to one of the healers and nodded. The man walked over to the door and then quietly shut it. Merlin felt his confusion growing. "Merlin," Lana said, pausing for a moment, "the seven of us are the best healers in the land, at least, that we are aware of, and curing you was beyond the total reach of our magic."

Merlin looked at her in shock. He had known that his healing should have been almost impossible. The power of the magical infection was unlike anything he had felt. Its very nature paralyzed and targeted immediately both the strengths and the weaknesses. Combine that with how close he had been to death and the complex healing of the injury on his arm he should only be alive currently if these people were very powerful. Merlin knew his powers had grown significantly in the last couple of years, and yet the magic of the creatures he had met on this side of the Border was powerful in a kind of diseased way that he had never seen before and wasn't entirely sure how to fight.

"What do you mean?" Merlin asked, getting cautious and anxious. He had a feeling that he wasn't going to like what they told him next.

"There is no way you can be alive right now, Merlin, unless some power much stronger than our own helped us out," Lana answered slowly, staring at Merlin fixedly. "The best we were able to do was probably buy you a few more agonizing hours." Merlin held back a flinch. The one thing he did remember from his time unconscious was the unbearable pain that had gripped him and had grown steadily worse. "If we had tended to you a day or two ago before the foul sickness had spread so thoroughly through your body saving you would not have been hard, but you must understand, Merlin. The magical had completely claimed your body. It was strangling the life out of you. There were probably only a few small areas that the magic hadn't infected. You should have been far too gone to save."

Merlin felt a little sick at hearing how bad it had been. There had been a time when so much as a touch of evil magic had caused him severe nausea and pain because it was the polar opposite of his own. But over the years Merlin had built up a tolerance and immunity to the effects dark magic even being near him had on his body. Corrupt magic still clashed completely with his own and still hurt, but he no longer let it bother him. His magic had built a wall around itself so that it wouldn't be crippled by the touch of inferior and evil magic. In fact, Merlin had started to build this immunity after very weak, but quite insane and dark magic had nearly killed him after his encounter with Arcturus. Merlin's magic was more than capable of snuffing out Arcturus', but it had shied away and hid from it because of how repulsive it was and Merlin had nearly died and left Arthur on his own. Merlin had decided then and there that he wouldn't let evil magic, no matter how different it was from his own, stop him because of a little pain.

And so because of the wall of protect he had carefully and painstakingly built Merlin was now more than ever capable of fighting any and all evil forces that came his way. So something like this, something that he hadn't been able to defend himself from despite everything that he had taught himself, unnerved Merlin and told him exactly how true their words were. It was in this foreign magic's nature to paralyze upon contact so that Merlin's magic, regardless of how powerful it was, had been unable to fight it off. So the question was: how had _they_? According to Lana, however, they hadn't.

"So…how am I alive?" Merlin asked slowly. He wasn't entirely sure where they were going with this conversation, but he knew that he really didn't like being the center of attention in a room full of sorcerers.

"We had help," Lana said with a twinkle of excitement in her eyes. "As you may have guessed, the disease flowing through your body is designed to prevent all the body's defenses from fighting back. At first, when we were healing you, our progress was very slow and difficult. I honestly didn't believe that we could save you unless a miracle happened, and, surprisingly, one did."

Merlin tensed up slightly and eyed Lana warily. She was dancing around the point and Merlin intuitively knew that whatever she was getting at was something that he didn't want you to know. "What happened?" Merlin asked simply with no emotion on his face or in his voice.

"You." The gleam in Lana's eyes brightened as, at the same time, Merlin's muscles stiffened and his countenance darkened. But before the warlock could say anything Lana continued, this time speaking quickly and excitedly. "Suddenly, right as we felt the magic turn on you and we knew that our action had only sped up your death we felt something burst from within you. From a place that had only contained darkness before came a huge surge of indescribable magic that engulfed us and the infection. Suddenly we were no longer using our magic, but were instead vessels for someone else's. The bright and burning magic flowed into us and used us to heal you." Lana gave a grin that made her seem like a young, carefree girl. "It was the most wonderful and overwhelming feeling. We were being possessed, but not by something with any ill intent. The magic meant us no harm; it was simply acting on a shared desire to help you, Merlin."

The manservant looked around at the seven faces and saw each one of the pointed looks. They knew he had magic and they knew how powerful it was. But none of the looks coming his way were hostile or even wary in any way.

"You have magic, Merlin," Lana said in an awed voice, "and it is more powerful and inspiring and beautiful than any I have ever felt. We didn't heal you. I think we just helped to untether your magic and free it from the sickness. That's all we did; we gave your magic the extra nudge it needed to conquer what was trying to destroy it." There was no hate in any of their eyes, only admiration.

Artice, the shy sounding healer asked hesitantly, "Are you Emrys?"

Before Merlin could react Lana said, "Don't worry, we wouldn't say anything to anyone. We felt your magic; we understand how fragile everything surrounding you is. Whether you are Emrys or not you clearly have a destiny beyond anything that we can imagine. You may be used to your magic, but for us, feeling it flow through us even for a few seconds is the most amazing thing to ever happen to us. We are at your service, Emrys."

Merlin was speechless. He gazed around at the healers and he could sense their magic, which differed in levels of strength and purity, and he could tell that it was buzzing with excitement. "My friends don't know," Merlin said at last, "and for now they can't."

They all nodded. "We won't say a word," one of the men said. "Getting to meet you alone is an honor for us. We wouldn't do anything to negatively affect your destiny."

"I owe you my life," Merlin stated.

"No," Artice said quietly, "you don't."

Merlin turned his gaze to her and she seemed to withdraw into herself slightly. Their story actually made sense to Merlin. It explained why his magic felt a bit worn. If it had performed the kind of healing that they had described without him even consciously commanding it then it had a right to be tired. Yet despite that it was hardly weak. Merlin stepped forward and placed his hand gently on Artice's shoulders and closed his eyes. He tugged just slightly at his magic and a small thread of it easily rose to the surface and Merlin directed it.

Artice gasped as Merlin's magic touched and mingled with hers and the warlock told it to refresh and comfort her. Merlin pulled away and slowly the girl turned her eyes to his and there were tears in them. "What was that?" she breathed.

"Not long ago my friends and I encountered a creature capable of making you remember the worst moments of your life. But my magic did the opposite; it brought to the surface the best memories you have. That is my thank you." Merlin smiled. Just as he had guessed when he had touched her he had sensed her insecurity and self-doubt. She thought very little of herself and Merlin had decided to change that. Now and forever a small taste of his magic would be mingled with hers and in times of need it would give her strength. It was the least he could do. His magic reached out to people like her; what he had done wouldn't have worked on everyone in the room.

"All right," Lana said, breaking the atmosphere of awe that had settled into the room. "I should take you to your room. It has been an honor for all of us, Emrys."

Merlin nodded at them and then walked beside Lana as she led him out of the room and to his own. As they walked down a long, dark corridor Lana said, "I wish we didn't have to part ways. We all have so many questions." She kept her voice low so that only Merlin could hear her.

"So do I," Merlin answered. "I still understand so little about my magic. I know a lot of things instinctively, but trying to understand or explain them consciously…I'm still figuring out who I am."

They stopped in front of a door and Lana pushed it open to reveal a warm, spacious room decorated in comforting reds and browns. The room was at least as big as Arthur's back home, if not larger, and it had a roaring fire and a bed that looked more comfortable than a cloud. "This is your own room," Lana said. Merlin just gaped. Before coming to Camelot Merlin hadn't even had a bed to sleep in, now he had a room all to himself that was fit for royalty.

Merlin stepped through the doorway, staring in awe. "I hope that your questions get answered someday," Lana said before turning and walking away.

Suddenly the doors of the rooms on either side of Merlin's burst open and both Gwaine and Arthur appeared. "We were starting to get worried that something had happened to you," Gwaine said. By now they had reached him and Merlin's roguish friend enveloped him in a warm hug. "Truly, mate, how are you feeling?" Gwaine asked as he pulled away and Merlin saw the unmistakable concern in his eyes.

"Are you in any pain?" Arthur cut in before Merlin could answer. The warlock looked at Arthur with a mixture of disbelief and incredulity. Was that question sincere?

"Um…yes, I'm fine." Merlin saw the look of protest in their eyes so his quickly elaborated, "I mean, I'm a bit tired and I'm still not entirely sure that this isn't one big, crazy dream, but I'm fine. I'm not in any pain, which seems like a miracle, so I'm okay." Merlin grinned at his friends. He wasn't lying or hiding any injuries. He truly meant what he said. Merlin looked at Arthur, hoping that once his friend saw the sincerity on his face then he would believe him.

But when Merlin's eyes met his prince's he saw an indescribable set of emotions there. Arthur gazed at him steadily and said without so much as blinking, "I'm glad you're all right, Merlin. It's good to see you well again."

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><p>So some parts of this chapter were unplanned, but I think they turned out well. I hope you all liked how I described Merlin's magic. Again, I'm sorry for any mistakes. And you know what would be great? If I came back home a day or so from now and I had a bunch of reviews to read! Yeah, that was a subtle hint.<p> 


	14. And What Have We Learned Today?

Because I have an original story that I'm really excited to start writing I had intended to update this story twice a week. But that plan fell through when I got the mumps and I was too miserable and too busy blowing my nose every thirty seconds to write anything. And since getting over the mumps I have gotten sick twice and have had bad anxiety and a sore throat so painful that it's almost impossible to talk. Suffice it to say that writing has been difficult lately. In fact, this whole chapter was written two or three paragraphs at a time, and over a period of three weeks, so I apologize if it seems a bit choppy. On the upside, however, this update is also my longest one yet seeing as how it's over 10,000 words.

I'm so sorry about this wait, trust me, it wasn't fun for me either. But assuming that something actually goes my way for once updates won't take this long again.

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><p>"So what happened?" Merlin asked as Gwaine practically forced him to sit down. "I still have no idea what I missed while I was unconscious."<p>

"Well, you fell asleep and we couldn't wake you," Gwaine answered. "And it became obviously very quickly that you weren't just sleeping because you were tired. I mean...I've seen people who are sick and dying before, but this was so much worse." There wasn't a hint of humor or sarcasm on his face, which was practically unheard of since Gwaine always made a point to be easy-going and happy. Merlin could see in his eyes how greatly this had scared him. "You would scream in pain anytime we touched you as if we were burning you. You looked utterly horrible and every second you seemed worse and...there was nothing we could do. We had no idea how to help." Gwaine looked at Merlin with pained eyes. "I think we rode desperately for a long time knowing that at any second you could die.

"At some point it began to rain, but—it wasn't natural rain. It was so heavy and hard that it actually hurt. I—I can't imagine what it must have been like for you." Merlin flinched. He did remember how the pain had consumed him and given the chance he would gladly forget. "And then, like a miracle, we basically ran into Jonathon and Cirrus, who was a sorcerer and placed some sort of shield over our heads to protect us from the worst of the rain. They brought us to this castle because they have magical healers." Gwaine shook his head grimly and Merlin raised an eyebrow at the magical part. "But by the time we got you here you were nearly gone. I think...I think that there were a few moments when I actually believed that you were going to die." The man sighed tiredly. "But they saved you. And now you're all right." He frowned and then glared at Merlin. "You are all right, aren't you?"

"Yes," Merlin quickly assured him, "I feel better than I can remember feeling in a long time." Despite wanting to continue comforting a clearly-pained Gwaine, Merlin couldn't stop his gaze from drifting back to Arthur, who was standing up with his arms crossed and his back to them. The prince was acting decidedly stranger than normal and Merlin only saw that as a cause for worry. Honestly, Merlin himself was still stunned at the news that Arthur had willingly used magic, the abomination that he had been taught his whole life to hate, to save him. "You used magic to save me?" Merlin asked in a surprisingly small voice. But Arthur's only reaction was stiffen slightly.

"Of course we did," Gwaine answered when it became clear that Arthur wouldn't. "We couldn't let you die. I don't know about Princess over here, but I was willing to do anything if it meant you would live." Merlin couldn't help but smile a bit at that. Unfortunately, though it was nice to hear Gwaine say that, it was Arthur he really wanted to hear it from. It was becoming apparent to Merlin that despite the fact that Arthur had allowed him to be healed by magic, it had gone against his very nature and rivaled everything he believed. Arthur was angry at the crime he had had to commit.

After staring at the emotionless back facing them for several moments Merlin finally expressed his guilt. "I'm sorry." His voice was a slight whisper.

Arthur seemed to flinch in part surprise and an understanding of every moment that that apology covered. But Gwaine, on the other hand, did not seem to understand at all. "What for?" he asked a little indignantly.

"For causing you so much trouble," Merlin answered as he watched Arthur go rigid at his words. Merlin felt a hand on his shoulder and he looked over at Gwaine.

"Listen to me. Let's say for a moment that I agree with you and you did cause trouble. It doesn't matter; you're worth it, mate."Gwaine grinned one of his disarming smiles. "Besides, we were worried about you, not angry about having to go out of our way to save you." Gwaine clapped Merlin lightly on the back and looked at him sincerely. "Truly you are my only friend, Merlin, and I'd be an idiot to walk away from that."

Merlin couldn't help but smile. Aside from Gaius, no one really ever said things like this to him. He hadn't really expected Gwaine to say what he did, but he had hoped for some sort of reaction from Arthur. Merlin was now sure that Arthur was having trouble understanding and suppressing his emotions. Arthur was all around happier if he could just pretend that he couldn't feel any real emotions and if he could beat the crap out of Merlin while sparring with him. Merlin himself wasn't used to getting any praise or seeing people express any form of affection towards him as Gwaine just had. Arthur was trying to deal with everything that had happened and to find a way to control what he was feeling. But Merlin couldn't help but wish that Arthur would stop trying to put his mask back into place and would, just for a little while, stop lying to himself and others. Merlin knew that if Arthur ever began to truly accept and feel his emotions then he would be far more comfortable telling him his secret.

Abruptly Arthur straightened his back and turned around and Merlin could see in his eyes that the battle was over. Arthur had control over his emotions again. The warlock inwardly sighed. For now, Gwaine's words of friendship and kindness were enough. Merlin didn't really believe that Arthur would ever drop all his pretenses and just be himself. As long as the prince's pride was more important in his mind than Merlin was he would always refer to him as a servant and nothing more.

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><p>Arthur couldn't help but feel a bit guilty as he heard Gwaine's words. The man freely admitted to being a loner who traveled anywhere and everywhere with no greater desire than to indulge in as much ale and bar maids as he could, and yet here he was saying to Merlin what Arthur couldn't find the strength to.<p>

Seeing Merlin so weak and dying had hurt Arthur to his core and had made him feel more vulnerable than he could remember feeling since they had been captured by Arcturus. Arthur knew in his heart how important Merlin was to him and how little he did to deserve the loyalty that he showed to him. But now that Merlin was safe and healthy again, remembering all those emotions that he only ever let out in times of horrible pain and stress was too much for Arthur to handle. He'd rather keep fooling himself and pretending that Merlin meant no more than an annoying servant to him because that was easier.

Sometimes Arthur truly hated himself. For some reason, regardless of how much he wanted to, he could never crush and quell the nagging voice of pride that kept him from ever saying what he actually felt. He could see the light in Merlin's eyes that came from just a few kind and loving sentences from Gwaine. Why, for once, couldn't Arthur be the source of Merlin's happiness instead of constantly putting him down?

"Well," said Gwaine, breaking Arthur out of his self-loathing stupor, "I guess we should get ready for dinner. All three of us are a mess."

It was true. As Arthur looked himself over he noticed how disheveled and muddied every article of his clothing was. By now they had mostly dried from the rain and were stiff and very wrinkled and were giving off a faint odor. And Arthur could tell just by the feel of his hair that it needed a good washing with plenty of soap. And looking at the other two he could tell that they were just as bad.

Over the next two or so hours the three of them retreated to their own rooms and each had a nice, warm bath and then dressed in the clothes that had been laid out for them and that fit perfectly, much to Arthur's surprise. When the three of them finally emerged clean and comfortable outside their rooms Arthur was stunned by how nice they all looked. Each one of them had on a fancy doublet with intricate embroidery that also had the castle's symbol of a bird flying over a river on it. Arthur's clothes were a deep, rich brown with a splash of dark red and watery blue every now and then, and Gwaine's were a dark green with hints of yellow. But Merlin's seemed to have a touch of everything. Whether it was the brown leather cuff on his wrist or the green tint to his sleeves or the intense midnight blue of his shirt or the dark purple that seemed to have been blended into his pants, there seemed to be every dark color under the sun displayed in his outfit. In fact, the colors would probably never have looked right together if it hadn't been for the shiny silver stitching and embroidery that danced along each article of clothing.

And what was the most surprising to Arthur was that despite how odd and random the choices of the colors were for each of their outfits, it all seemed to fit. Green somehow seemed to represent Gwaine in the fact that it was a better color on him than Arthur could ever remember seeing. The dark brown and the washed out blue of Arthur's clothes complimented each other in a way that just felt right to the prince and the rich red rounded them all off. And Merlin's clothes, for all the odd colors, symbolized all the craziness and strangeness and quirky wisdom that made the boy who he was. Somehow, whoever had picked out these clothes for them had known exactly what fitted them best.

Within moments of coming out of their rooms a servant appeared and led them down several hallways and around a few sharp corners before finally coming to a huge set of double doors. The servant opened them and ushered them inside. The room was vast and in the middle of it were four large tables that formed a square shape. The tables were covered with all sorts of delicious-smelling food and at least a dozen men and women who looked like nobles were seated at them. Servants were bustling around carrying dishes and those who were seated were chatting amiably.

As Arthur turned his head he surveyed the room and he noticed that the Lady Risa and a man with a great amount of red, floppy hair and contrasting dark blue eyes were headed straight towards them. When they reached them the man, who was dressed in just as fine, but not nearly as appealing, garments, extended a hand and said, "I am Derrick, King of the Homeland. It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance, especially when considering the fact that you are the first newcomers that we have seen in months." Out of all the kind people Arthur had seen here this man was clearly the most easy-going and fun-loving. There was a light of joy in his eyes that vividly reminded Arthur of Merlin on the days when he wasn't being tortured or attacked or nearly killed.

Though the man seemed a bit older than Risa, the Lady didn't seem to care because her mysterious eyes lit up in a way when he talked that spoke clearly of undying love. Truthfully there seemed to be nothing special or particularly attractive about King Derrick, but for some reason this unbelievably gorgeous woman found him to be the most amazing man in the world. The obvious love between them warmed Arthur's heart some and brought slightly painful, but incredibly fond memories of Guinevere.

Because Arthur was still a bit distant as he observed them it was Gwaine that replied, "And I am Gwaine and this is Merlin," the man gestured to his friend next to him, "and this is Ar-Arcturus." Arthur, caught off guard, quickly turned his eyes on Merlin just in time to see the visible flinch that his fake name had caused. Thankfully, Arthur believed that the royal couple had been focused enough on Gwaine that they had missed Merlin's reaction. But when Merlin's pained and questioning eyes turned towards Arthur's the prince started mentally kicking himself for not only ever saying that was his name, but also for not even mentioning it to the boy beforehand in an effort to prepare him. However, as it was Merlin, despite the obvious revulsion and pain that the name caused him, managed to disguise his emotions almost completely and within a few short seconds. How the idiot hid the horror on his face by slipping on a smiling, happy mask that was nearly impenetrable so skillfully Arthur didn't know, and wasn't sure he wanted to.

"Ah, Merlin," King Derrick said, "Are you feeling better? You are the one who was ill, weren't you?"

Merlin nodded. "Yes, I was. But thanks to the healers and many other kind people here I am now completely better."

"That is wonderful to hear," Queen Risa said in her low, but smooth voice. She looked around her for a moment. "It seems that everything is nearly ready. Should we sit down?"

They nodded and the king and queen led them to their spots, which were at the royal table. There is no greater honor than to sit next to the royal family at a dinner.

Once seated, Gwaine said, "Everything looks and smells delicious." Arthur always was surprised at how charming and cordial he could be when he wished to, like now. Gwaine was playing the part of a perfect gentleman flawlessly.

"Thank you," Queen Risa replied. "The cook is a personal friend of mine and it always gladdens me to see people appreciate her fine work."

Arthur glanced over at Merlin, who was sitting to his right, which was closer to the queen, and observed him for a moment. Merlin seemed tired. Even though it was obvious that he was paying attention to his surroundings and especially to their hosts, Arthur couldn't help but feel that his heart wasn't in it. Of course, it didn't help that Merlin was completely out of his element sitting next to royals and eating food that was probably more expensive than all the things he owned combined. Arthur knew Merlin well enough to know that he was incredibly grateful to everyone here for saving him, but would rather get to know them in a personal and easy setting, as opposed to something this fancy and formal.

And there was a slight tightness around his eyes that normally Arthur wouldn't notice—right now being an exception only because of everything they had been through lately and Arthur purposely trying to read his manservant—and if he had to guess the prince would say that Merlin was still shaken up from hearing the name Arcturus again. Arthur knew that had to be it because he himself was still uncomfortable with it. The crowned prince just wished that Merlin didn't have to be here right now, attempting to be interested and pleasant with a bunch of royals. Merlin had been through hell, almost literally, recently and right now he deserved to be resting, preferably at home in Camelot, surrounded by his friends and drugged by Gaius. But Arthur had gotten barely any of the things he had been wishing for lately, and so this wish, just like all the others, would have to just be content with not being fulfilled.

The prince returned his attention to everything that was going on around him and noticed that all the food seemed to be ready, but despite that most of the chairs at the four tables were still empty. Normally by now, at least, in Camelot, everyone who had the honor and/or blood-right would be seated and the dinner and pleasant, but usually meaningless, conversation would commence. And if some people couldn't be there for dinner for whatever reason then their chairs and place-settings would have long since been taken away. And, of course, no one was ever this late to a royal dinner—the only exception being very serious emergencies, personal or otherwise.

Obviously things were different here.

The queen must have seen his confusion and questioning glance because she said in that haunting voice of hers, "Oh, I'm sorry. I'm not sure what it's like where you're from, but here we believe in equality." Arthur saw a movement out of the corner of his eye and he turned his head to see all the servants who had been serving them, a little over a dozen, walk empty-handed over to the tables and then proceed to sit down. "Because of that," Queen Risa continued, "we believe that the servants and cooks who made and helped prepared the meal have just as much of a right to eat at the royal table as anyone else. Just because they have a different job than we do does not mean that who they are is worth any less."

Arthur felt shocked. In Camelot there was a very clear distinction between the different classes of people and something like this would never be accepted. But when Arthur looked over at Merlin he saw the shock and happiness on his face he realized for the first time that maybe the way they did things in Camelot wasn't the best way. Never before had the prince wondered what it was like for servants, constantly knowing that their thoughts and opinions didn't matter nearly as much as the prats they served. _No, because it's worth less than yours. _That was something his own father had said about Merlin. Arthur couldn't fathom what it would be like knowing all your life that just because you weren't particularly powerful or didn't have the right blood flowing through your veins you weren't worth as much as other people.

Suddenly the blond prince realized why Merlin seemed to always be destroying all the walls that were supposed to be between a servant and his master, and why, for the most part, he always treated and respected people according to their actions and goodness of heart. Merlin didn't live in the world of class and social barriers and all around snobbishness that Arthur did. No, Merlin's mind and heart belonged in a place like this where, regardless of what your job was or how you were born, you got recognized for your hard work and the way you treated people. One look at the nobles and royals in this room and Arthur could tell that these people considered their positions just another job, and not some sort of birthright that meant they were better than others.

Arthur felt like he was finally beginning to understand a little bit of Merlin on this trip, and that was saying something since he never had any idea why Merlin did anything ever. Realizing what this way of living could do for people, Arthur found himself smiling, especially at seeing Merlin's joy.

King Derrick and his wife stood up suddenly, before anyone had taken a bite, and raised his glass saying, "A toast to the good-health and safety of our guests Gwaine, Merlin and Arcturus." He looked at the three of them, seemingly not noticing Merlin's dislike of Arthur's supposed name, and addressed them personally. "We are glad and very lucky to have you here with us and we hope that your stay will be a pleasant and joyous one." And then he and Queen Risa drank, followed by everyone in the room from the servants to the nobles, with the exception of the three from Camelot. Then the two of them sat down, and as was proper etiquette the king took the very first bite, which meant the rest of them could now dig in.

Arthur felt his stomach rumble and realized with surprise that he was actually starving, so he began to tear, politely of course, into his chicken. He glanced over briefly and saw Gwaine doing much of the same thing, but Merlin wasn't. He was eating slowly, but he still seemed to be enjoying the food. Despite that, though, Arthur was puzzled. The prince knew for a fact that since arriving at the village Landar Merlin had had very little to eat, what with being injured, in pain, and unconscious for at least half the time since then. How Merlin wasn't wolfing down his food right now was beyond Arthur. That is, it was until he remembered a conversation he had had several years ago with Merlin, not long before both of them had been captured. "_Growing up in Ealdor you learn to get used to hunger."_

Merlin had told him that after Arthur had pried and nagged at him to get the truth after he had collapsed from hunger and exhaustion. Merlin had said that hunger didn't really matter to him anymore, yet another thing that separated his life from Arthur's. Out of nowhere Arthur felt angry at all the confusion, all the things he didn't understand, the rules and laws, and everything else that distanced him from ever having a regular friendship with Merlin. If he weren't a prince Merlin would be his best friend and there would be no insult-disguised compliments or aspects of the idiot's life that he didn't understand. Over and over again lately Arthur had been realizing that Merlin was capable of and deserved much more credit than he had ever originally thought. Arthur would love to get to know Merlin more, but that could only happen in a place like this or years from now in a very changed Camelot. Maybe when he became king, but it would only be foolish to hope for a chance to truly be Merlin's friend before then.

* * *

><p>Gwaine didn't have a care in the world. Merlin was healthy again and if he had anything to say about it he'd stay that way. He was eating unbelievably delicious food and was surrounded by kind people. Right at that moment he couldn't think of a single thing he wanted. But then Gwaine's curiosity got piqued.<p>

"So, Merlin," King Derrick said as he looked up from his food to looked at the slightly startled boy, "how is your father Balinor doing these days?"

Surprise and confusion rippled through all three of them, Gwaine himself shocked because he had no idea how this man could know Merlin's father. And it was made all the more strange by the fact that Gwaine hadn't heard Merlin talk about or mention his father once. And as he looked over at his friend curiously he noticed how shaken up and pained he seemed. And Arthur, well, Arthur was doing what he did best, which was looking indignant and clueless to everything going on around him.

"Oh, I apologize," the King said, sounding truly contrite. "I forget that some people don't know. You see, I have an ability that is rather unique and can sometimes give me a better understanding of people," he explained.

"It was something he was born with," the Queen chimed in. "Some would call it magic, but if it's magic then it's a very specific kind. It has one purpose and one purpose only, and it's not something he can turn on and off."

All this time Queen Risa had be either looking at her husband or at Merlin or even at Arthur, but for a split second here her eyes turned to Gwaine and he suddenly felt as if he was caught in a gaze that he couldn't look away from. It was as if he had been frozen. The next second her eyes drifted away again and the spell seemed to be broken. Gwaine didn't know why, but he felt odd around her. It wasn't like she was a threat or something, no; his first instinct was that she was a friend. But whenever he looked at her piercing eyes he got the strangest feeling like she knew far more about him than he had ever told her. There definitely was something out-of-place about her, even though she and everyone else seemed perfectly comfortable with her here. But despite the strange power she seemed to possess Gwaine liked her. She was clearly kind and apparently deeply in love with her husband—and Gwaine had been around enough to know that that wasn't always the case—and so there was no real reason not to like her.

"My wife is correct," King Derrick said. "As long as I can remember I have had this, well, this gift. Let me put it this way: have you ever seen someone you know standing next to one of their family members and when you look close enough you can see the similarities in their faces or the way they move?" Gwaine found himself subconsciously nodding. "My ability is similar, but far stronger. I can see bloodlines connecting people who don't even look remotely alike." Gwaine just felt himself getting more confused.

"Like really strong intuition or observational skills?" Gwaine heard Arthur ask.

"No, it's far more complex," Queen Risa answered. "For instance," she continued and Gwaine noticed how intently she seemed to be watching Arthur and Merlin's reactions, "not long after he met me he literally bumped into my parents. He had never seen them before and had no idea who they were, but after only a couple of seconds he saw the lines of blood and relation that indicated that we were family. I wasn't even there at the time. His power wasn't and isn't based off of outward appearance, but rather a sort of sense that he gets from them."

"Yes, you see, it's kind of like music," the king picked up, obviously enjoying explaining as much as his wife seemed to be. "It's like hearing music created by a famous person and being able to hear the same styles from his other works reflected in this one." When he noticed that he had yet to enlighten his new guests the king sighed in frustration. "It's hard to explain properly. You see, I have met people who are distantly related to someone I knew briefly in my childhood and almost immediately I could see or sense the same notes or the similar pattern in their...aura. It's hard to describe what I see and feel, but I can only tell you that I never forget someone's musical notes or colors. It doesn't matter when I met you or how long it has been since I've seen you or when I met your family. If I ever meet someone who shares even a little bit of blood with you I will see it and know how close you are in blood. Which is why I know who your father is, Merlin." Gwaine sensed both Merlin and Arthur tense up at this. "I met Balinor maybe ten years ago and I can see that the two of you are close in relation, which is why I guessed father. It's been many years since I've seen him, but he was a good man and not at all proud about his heritage."

"Heritage?" Merlin blurted abruptly and Gwaine couldn't help but send the boy a curious glance. This whole thing was very interesting and he was so glad he was here to witness it.

"Of course," King Derrick said and Gwaine watched as his wife seemed to be sending him warning looks, but apparently her husband was oblivious to them. "As you know, Balinor was a Dragonlord," Gwaine felt his heart jump in excitement; he couldn't remember the last time he had heard a conversation this intriguing, "and in the old days Dragonlords were considered to be above any mortal king and above all but the most powerful and destiny-filled sorcerers. Not only that, but his dragon was among one of the greatest, oldest, and most noble of all dragons. This made Balinor practically a royal among even his own people. But despite all the strong blood that flood through his veins and all the power he possessed without even trying, he never once thought of himself as above anyone else who was good and kind and loyal. He was not the kind of royal who would sit all day and make decrees and worry about tax, no; he was the kind who loved to travel and put an end to any danger he saw and make as many friends as possible. He was a great man."

Gwaine once again peered at Merlin. His first instinct had been that this man was wrong, because he _would_ know if Merlin came from a long line of Dragonlords and those with power. Merlin _would_ have told him that, right? But now the tavern-loving man was wondering what really _was_ the truth, because, judging by Merlin's strange behavior, he obviously knew something that the rest of them were missing. Is it possible that Merlin, common-looking (but not really common at all), easy-going, perfectly comfortable being a servant Merlin had royal and powerful blood that no one knew about? Merlin was many things, but he was not someone of noble lineage. He couldn't be. No one that loving and kind and without a care for a person's standing or title could ever be descended from a long line of prats. Of course, from what the king was saying apparently Merlin's "father" had been as accepting of people as Merlin is.

Gwaine observed the look of pain in his friend's eyes and the nervousness and uneasy glances he kept throwing Arthur's way. And then Gwaine saw the brief flash of happiness that appeared at hearing King Derrick say that Balinor was a "great man." _Oh, Merlin,_ Gwaine thought, _you've got the blood of men greater than kings in you and you haven't told anyone. You just hide in the shadows._

There was no doubt about it. Merlin would never react this way if at least something that King Derrick was saying were true. How in the world Merlin could be perfectly happy serving someone who was technically beneath him Gwaine had no idea.

Merlin, his best friend in the whole world and the only person who could be both simple and complicated at the same time was, essentially a prince. _Wow,_ was all Gwaine could think.

* * *

><p>Merlin's warning bells had gone off as soon as he had met King Derrick. Sure, his magic had no trouble ascertaining that he was a good and kind man, but it had also told him that he had a very different and limited, but still dangerous in this current situation, type of magic. But despite his magic's warnings he had been utterly stunned and momentarily speechless when King Derrick had mentioned Balinor. Never in a million years could Merlin have predicted that. But as soon as he had been able to think clearly again he had immediately worried about Arthur and his reaction and if, maybe, this would be the clue that finally revealed his secret. But though there was disbelief, confusion, indignation and laughter written on the prince's face, Merlin couldn't find a trace of accusation. In fact, for the moment, he seemed to be leaning towards finding this whole thing funny and unbelievable. And even though Merlin didn't want the prince to discover his magic and especially not the truth about his parentage this way, Arthur not even considering the fact that his servant and, hopefully, friend might be more than just a peasant hurt the warlock.<p>

But Merlin tried to reign that pain in because him hoping for Arthur to remain oblivious, but not wanting or accepting the inevitable fallout was just plain stupid. Wanting Arthur not to see magic as evil or to respect him as more than just a servant was far too much for Merlin to hope for and, frankly, illogical. There would be no point in wishing for the best of both worlds.

Merlin's attention, however, was completely drawn away when the king had begun talking about how Balinor had been higher than kings. Of course, Merlin had known that being a Dragonlord meant that in the old days his father had to have been above commoners and no doubt greatly respected. But of more importance than a king? Now _that_ was something that Merlin had not known, and now that he did he rather wished he had never heard it to begin with. He was already supposed to be the most powerful sorcerer ever to live and a warlock, which in all the reading Merlin had done he had never once found any evidence of previous warlocks, so he had to suspect that he was he only one. He already had this hugely important destiny that rested on his shoulders almost entirely and, if he failed, he would be basically dooming the world to fall. He was already afraid of what kind of horrible things he could do with his power. And he already had a great and old dragon, that happened to be the last of its kind, under his command. And now, apparently, he was also some sort of royal? Or beyond a royal?

Merlin felt a headache coming on. No, he didn't want any more responsibility or expectations laid on his shoulders. All his life he had wanted nothing more—with the exception of magic returning and no longer being banned—than to be an ordinary boy, with regular problems and not having to be afraid for his own life or the lives of those he loved. But, somehow, Merlin had gotten stuck with exactly the opposite. Merlin had never wanted these great powers or this huge destiny; he just wanted to live a normal, happy life surrounded by his friends and family. No, he hadn't asked for this at all.

But just as Merlin felt the smallest spark of anger, which he would have immediately quelled anyway, King Derrick finished by saying, "He was a great man." The pain that this whole conversation had invoked faded away as he felt himself smile. Probably for the last twenty years of his life no one had thought much of anything good about his father, but it warmed Merlin's heart to hear the opinion of someone who'd gotten it right. Merlin hadn't known his father for very long, but from what he had heard and the very fact that he had been Gaius' friend and his mother had fallen in love with him proved to the warlock that he had to have been a wonderful man. Not only that, but in the few days that Merlin had known him Balinor had overcome twenty years of pain, hate, and fear that he had suffered from and had decided to come back with them to stop Kilgharrah. If that wasn't great then Merlin didn't know what was.

But one look at Arthur stole away Merlin's happiness as he realized that the description of Balinor's personality had started the wheels turning in his head. Arthur turned his head to look at Merlin and the suspicion and even a little bit of anger was evident. Merlin knew that if he didn't do something he could lose everything. Now was not the time, not after everything they had been through to get here, Arthur couldn't know even this one thing about him.

"So," Merlin asked, addressing the king, "has your power ever been wrong? You say you can always tell when two people are related, but surely it can't be right all the time?" Merlin tried to make his question seem casual, but he was really hoping for a specific answer. He wasn't disappointed.

The king laughed. "No, it's not perfect. I have been wrong before." He sighed. "And more and more often as I grow older. My son, however, he's never wrong."

"You have a son with the same ability?" Arthur asked and Merlin saw his jaw tighten just a little bit. Even though these people had saved Merlin's life, Arthur wasn't likely to forget that many of them had magic and it was widely accepted here. And though Merlin doubted that Arthur would condemn this man and his son for their slight magical ability that couldn't be used to hurt anyone, the warlock knew that it was probably difficult for the prince to suppress his instincts.

"Yes, he does," Queen Risa answered. "He and my husband are the only people that I've ever heard of to have this gift. I would, of course, introduce you to our son," she continued, "but sadly he's away on a trip to the other side of the Border." Somehow Merlin got the feeling that she wasn't really sorry that he was gone.

"Just because we are protected here from much of the chaos and fear that rules the other side of the Border, doesn't mean we should completely cut ourselves off from them," King Derrick explained when he saw the curious looks on all three of their faces. "Normally we would send a scout party to collect news from the other side; however, my son pointed out the fact that one day he will rule this kingdom and it would probably be beneficial for him to see what so many have run from." Merlin saw Arthur stiffen a bit. "We decided that it could be good for him, but now I'm beginning to regret it."

"Oh, and why is that?" Merlin asked politely. He wasn't used to having to make this kind of conversation at a royal dinner, but he figured that keeping silent and not offering anything up could be seen as rude.

The king sighed. "Our son doesn't share our same ideals. He understands power, but what he doesn't understand is that kindness can be more powerful than anything. There is a lot of rage in him, but it directionless because there is no real reason for it. And so he is inclined to take it out on those who are innocent." Merlin could see pain in both their eyes. They obviously loved their son, but hated the way he acted and knew that they couldn't support it. "I had hoped," the king continued, "that perhaps this trip might teach him something, teach him not to be so rash. That it might even out some of his jagged edges, but it could also make him even more reckless and anger-filled. Maybe it wasn't such a good idea." The king looked pensive and lost in his thoughts for a moment before his face brightened up and he said, "But I've been talking this whole time about me. I apologize for my rudeness." He took a sip of his wine. "Please, tell us how you came to be here and how, Merlin, you got such a grievous wound. That is, if you don't mind talking about it."

Merlin looked across at his friends for maybe some help as to what they were doing here, but both of them had food in their mouths. Thanks for nothing. "Umm, no," Merlin answered, "I don't mind telling you about it. My friends and I come from the other side of the Border and we...didn't like it there. Like you said, so much hate and pain and fear. There's nothing worse than watching people who are suffering and to be unable to help them." Out of the corner of his eye Merlin saw Arthur flinch. "So we thought we'd take the chance that this place would be better. We're just lucky that we made it through the Border, not everyone can."

"And how do the three of you know each other?" Queen Risa asked with a twinkle in her eye.

Merlin opened his mouth to answer, but Gwaine did before he could. "Actually, though we are now friends, I began out being Merlin's bodyguard. Because there are some people who know of his heritage and would want to kill him or use him to their advantage, he sometimes needs protecting, even though he is good at taking care of himself." Merlin was surprised at Gwaine's words and wasn't quite sure where he was going with this, but so far what he was saying seemed harmless. "And Arcturus here, well, he's Merlin's servant." Merlin's head whipped around to stare at Gwaine, who was smirking and looking very full of himself, with shock written on his face.

Then Merlin saw the barely disguised rage and surprise on Arthur's face and all he could think was: _Uh-oh. _Despite the fact that this had been entirely Gwaine's idea, Merlin just knew that as soon as they got back to Camelot he would be saddled with enough chores to keep him working nonstop for days and would most likely spend some quality time in the stocks. There were a bunch of things Merlin wanted to say in protest, but now was not the time, so he carefully masked his feelings of indignation.

"After we'd made it through the Border," Gwaine continued, "and we were on our way to find a relative of Merlin's who is supposed to live around here, we came across a small village called Landar." Gwaine's previously jovial face grew serious. "The people of this village were being attacked by a monster that paralyzed them. They couldn't stop it."

As Gwaine told the story Merlin found himself drifting off. He was getting very tired and his body was beginning to ache all over. Hearing this story didn't particularly help him ignore the pain, either, which was why he was tuning it out. Unsurprisingly, Merlin really didn't care to relive this memory at the moment. The dull ache in his body was nothing compared to basically any other pain he had ever felt, but it was still something he'd rather be without. But then again, since when did he ever get a break?

Merlin took another bite of the food that, though originally had been very tasty, was now losing its flavor due to his own exhaustion. Then he heard Gwaine say something that caught his attention.

"Merlin killed the monster with fire and in doing so saved many lives, including mine and Ar-Arcturus'. But not before the creature bit his arm and damaged it so badly that the healer in that town said that he would never regain full use of it." Merlin found himself reflexively running his fingers along the tiny scar that was all that was left of the terrible wound that had been there only a few hours ago. Gwaine glanced at Merlin with a pained, and yet proud look in his eye. "Merlin saved us all, but the price of that was his arm, and as we later found out, his life. He's a hero."

Merlin didn't know what to say to that or to the grin Gwaine was sending his direction. No one had ever called him a hero before. He had no idea how to respond to something like that. He knew he had a big destiny and he was supposed to do amazing things, but he had never once thought of himself as a hero. Too many mistakes had been made and far too many had died for Merlin to ever even for a split second consider himself a hero. There had been failures and close-calls. There had been times when he had made horrible decisions. And worst of all he had murdered people or through his actions gotten them killed.

"I'm not a hero," Merlin said quietly. "I just have a knack for getting into trouble."

"According to Gwaine's story both of you might be right," Lady Risa said, "You get into trouble to save others." Merlin began to shake his head but she stopped him. "I don't anyone is truly qualified to judge themselves, they are either too proud or not enough, that's why you let your true friends do that for you."

"I agree with my wife,"' King Derrick and Merlin saw the two of them cup hands and share a loving look. "And I definitely believe that you did not deserve what happened to you. Am I right in saying that that's how you became so close to death?"

"Yes," Gwaine answered solemnly. "The monster infected its victims with an illness that kept them from running away. When it bit Merlin's arm it infected him. It wasn't long before Merlin's condition became grave and we realized that he didn't have a lot of time left." Merlin couldn't stop the feeling of guilt that rose up in his stomach. He hated that he had put his friends through this.

"If we hadn't met some of your men," Arthur said, speaking for the first time in a little while, "we never would have gotten Merlin to the healers in time."

"We cannot thank you enough," Gwaine said and Merlin and Arthur nodded in agreement.

"We're just happy that you're here with us and safe," the Queen said. "I don't doubt that after everything you've been through you need a rest, Merlin."

Although Merlin had no idea what, he couldn't help but think that there was some other and deeper meaning to her words. There was definitely something about her that made his magic antsy.

"And as for the village Landar," King Derrick began, "it is a part of the Homeland. Were this any other time we would have sent men out to protect the people of the village, but we haven't been able to." He gestured to one of the windows and Merlin turned to look out it at the thick layer of rain that made it impossible to see anything. "You see, a couple of months ago a harsh storm that lasted for three days appeared and the downpour was so heavy that anyone in it would be beaten into the ground. In fact, several people actually died from being caught out in that vicious rain." The king shook his head sadly. "Our sorcerers put up shields to protect our crops from the onslaught. And after three days the rain finally stopped and we thought that was the end of it."

"But it wasn't, was it?" Arthur more stated than asked. His face was grim and Merlin could tell that he was sympathizing with this king because he himself had been in more than a few disastrous situations where his people had been in grave danger.

"No, it wasn't," the queen answered. "Four days later it rained again, just as harshly, if not more. And again our sorcerers put a protective shield to bear the brunt of the rain."

"It has been going on this way for four months. Three days out of the week we have constant and unnatural rain that prevents anyone who values their life from leaving their homes. Getting work done is very difficult and people are having to go without things they need. Those who live near rivers or lakes have to abandon their houses because they are being flooded. Despite our sorcerers best efforts, many crops have died, drowned in the water, and the sorcerers themselves are absolutely exhausted from performing such a powerful spell over such a large area nonstop for such a long time. At the end of the three days they collapse and only have four days to recuperate before they have to hold up the spell again," Derrick rattled off.

"Surely your sorcerers can find a way to stop the rain?" Merlin asked before his brain had a chance to catch up with his mouth. He regretted what he had said almost instantly because saying anything about magic around Arthur wasn't the best idea, regardless of how harmless it was. But sneaking a peek at Arthur out of the corner of his eye told him that the prince hadn't taken great offense or noticed something he shouldn't from what he had said.

"Of course they tried," the king replied, "but nothing they did worked and it only served to deplete their energy."

"Which is rapidly leaving them," Risa added. "It won't be long now before they won't have the strength to protect us at all from the rain and when that happens our crops will die and so will many of our people as a result."

"What could cause such regular and devastating storms?" Gwaine asked, his face scrunched up slightly in confusion and his eyes trained attentively on the royal couple.

"Only very powerful magic could create something like this over and over again," the queen answered gravely.

Merlin and Arthur gave each other a look. Both of them had been thinking for some time now that this unnatural rain could not be here by coincidence. A deadly storm heading towards Camelot and a nasty one here, right where the only known device capable of causing all this was supposed to be. No, not a coincidence.

"And that is why we believe that only Emrys will be able to end this downpour," King Derrick finished.

Merlin visibly jumped in his seat at hearing his other name. Suddenly he felt very nauseous and shaky and wanted nothing more than to sink into the floor and disappear. First Mercy in the village and then the healers here and now the king and queen? Did everyone know who he was except for his best friends?

* * *

><p>Arthur had been drinking a sip of his wine when the king said, "And that is why we believe that only Emrys will be able to end this downpour." Upon hearing that name Arthur nearly spit out his wine. His scalp tingled and a shiver ran down his spine and abruptly he felt very cold and yet warm. It was as if this name possessed some sort of power. But power or not, Arthur couldn't help but think that the name sounded familiar, even though he was positive he had never heard it before in his life.<p>

Finally swallowing the liquid in his mouth Arthur asked, "And who is this E-Emrys?" He mentally kicked himself for stuttering and wondered why it had felt so right to say the name.

"You don't know?" The king asked incredulously, "I thought everyone knew the prophecy of Emrys. I thought that was what gave people hope and the strength to go on, to continue living in such a hate and pain-filled world." Arthur just shook his head. "Well, I guess my wife and I better tell you the legend of Emrys." King Derrick gulped down the last dregs of his wine. "But not here. Let's move to a more private setting."

The royal couple, along with Merlin, Gwaine and Arthur, stood up and walked out of the large dining room. The king and queen led them down several long passages and then into a spacious room that was lined from floor to ceiling with books. In the center of the room were comfortable-looking chairs. The king gestured for them to sit, which he then did himself while his wife pulled a small leather-bound book off one of the shelves. The room was warm and comforting and Arthur found that he preferred this atmosphere.

"The myth of Emrys," Risa said as she sat down and opened the book. "Among certain groups the story of Emrys is a very beloved one and is told frequently with much awe and excitement." Queen Risa had a sparkle in her eyes and Arthur couldn't help but think that he was looking at a giddy child.

Arthur hated to admit it, but he was excited himself about hearing this tale. Something in the air felt important and monumental. Arthur didn't know why, but not only was he eager to hear more, he was also incredibly anxious about exactly _what _he might hear. In his gut Arthur just knew every miniscule detail was terribly important and would change everything. Somehow nothing mattered but this story.

"Over two hundred years ago," Risa continued, "a very skilled seer had a vision that was so powerful that he only had enough time to tell it to someone before his heart stopped beating." Arthur's skin began to crawl slightly. "His prophecy has instilled both fear and excitement in those who have heard it for centuries. The prophecy tells of a dark time full of death and hate. Of a time when magic is banned and both those with it and without it live in fear. Innocents will suffer and die and those with only evil in their hearts will prosper and face no punishment for their crimes."

The prince felt guilt swell up in his stomach as he realized that the prophesied dark time was _now_. These horrible things were happening under _his_ watch. _He_ was failing to help those who need saving and _he_ was failing to catch those who shouldn't be roaming free.

Risa turned a page in her book. She didn't really seem to be reading from it, but merely using it as a guide. "But then the seer went on to say that in the midst of the darkness someone very special and unique would be born." Arthur unconsciously tapped his toes in anticipation. "This person's name would be Emrys and he would be a warlock, the first and last of his kind. He would be the light in the darkness. He would come to protect the Once and Future King so that together they could create a better world. The Golden Age of Albion. Together they will bring back pure magic and banish the old, corrupt magic." Risa smiled joyously and Arthur began to do the same. "But none of that will come to pass without the might and sacrifice of Emrys." The queen leaned forward and said earnestly, "And it's all about him, you know. The Once and Future King is important and he will change lives, but Emrys is the key. He is said to be born for the specific reason to do things and help people and endure hardships that others can't."

Arthur found himself wanting to know more about Emrys, despite the fact that he sounded a rather daunting and larger than life person.

"Everything depends on Emrys," Risa said. Arthur was so engrossed in what she was saying that he didn't notice how she was staring intently at Merlin. "He will have to face untold dangers and challenges. He shall lose much that matters to him over and over again. It will be his job to ensure the safety of the Once and Future King at all costs. He will have to make terrible sacrifices and nearly lose himself because of it." Arthur was surprised to see tears brimming in her eyes. Her face was grim and as he looked over at her husband he could see he, too, was troubled by what he was hearing. In fact, Arthur himself was starting to feel deeply unsettled and he felt indignant that this Emrys should have to go through any of this.

"It is said," The king spoke up for the first time, his voice breaking slightly, "that he will suffer so greatly that it will nearly break him. That because of all his loyalty and all his good deeds, he will fall farther than he had ever fallen before. That pain will consume his heart and that only once he has become scarred beyond repair will the fulfillment of his destiny come to pass."

Arthur felt chilled to the bone. _No, no, no. Wasn't this supposed to be some sort of uplifting story? This person who was supposed to do amazing things is going to have to go through all this? How is that right? No one, whether they have magic or not, deserves to suffer the way they are talking about. _

"But as the saying goes," Queen Risa picked up again once she had regained her composure, "the darkest hour is just before the dawn. What will make Emrys so great and give him the ability to overcome incredible obstacles and pain will be one very important thing that is crucial to his destiny, _that_ is really what this whole prophecy is about. When most people think of this prophecy they focus on only one thing. Emrys is said to be the most powerful sorcerer to ever live. He is said to have unmatched magical abilities and the power to either destroy everything in sight around him or heal and help all those who need it.

"So many look up to the myth of Emrys because of his immense power, but that is not why he is a figure of legends."

"Then why?" Arthur heard himself ask without really ever giving the order to his tongue.

"He has a magic inside of him that is so much more powerful than any other magic." Risa answered. "His heart." Arthur twitched slightly in surprise; he hadn't expected that. "He will only able to do all the amazing things that it has been said he will do because of his love and kindness. Emrys is not a force for evil, but rather someone who will stop at nothing to save an innocent life. Someone who would face all sorts of trials if it meant keeping the ones that matter most to him safe and well. Emrys and the Once and Future King won't build the beautiful world of Albion because of their combined power and strength." Risa chuckled slightly and mirth was clear in her eyes. "No, they will build it together because of an unbreakable bond that is stronger than any in history. The legend of Emrys isn't about his magic or the Golden Age to come; it is about their friendship. The Once and Future King and the warlock Emrys will have a friendship stronger than any other and that is what will give Emrys the power to overcome all the terrible things he will endure."

"Both are powerful enough on their own," King Derrick said, "but together they will be an unstoppable force for good. Together they will change and heal the world, and each other."

Arthur couldn't hold back the grin that spread across his face. For some reason he didn't' care that they were talking about magic or that someone with more of it than anyone who ever lived was supposed to bring it back. Arthur couldn't care about that because this story, this tale, was better than life. A friendship like the one they spoke of, that was the kind of relationship he dreamed of having. Someone by his side who he could always trust, who he would know would never truly let him down. Someone to always be there with him, in the good times and the bad. Someone who would share in his grief and his joy because he, too, felt it. Someone who he would give his life for and who would give their life for him in return.

Arthur had never really had friends. They were always blatantly false and because of that not worth his time. But this was the kind of friendship he longed for. Because then the weight of the world, or more precisely, Camelot would no longer rest entirely on his shoulders. All his life Arthur had known that one day he would be king and that everything he did had to be for that; had to work towards helping his people and becoming ready to rule them. He had never been his own person; but rather he was some perfect figure meant to be larger than life and above emotions. He had to be so many different things for the people that depended on him that he could never be himself.

But if he had a good friend, someone who knew him and didn't expect too much of him, yet didn't insult him by expecting too little, then he could be himself around that person. They would joke around and give each other advice and be there for each other in times of pain and sadness. If Arthur had a friend he could trust completely then he wouldn't hide anything from him. If Arthur had someone like that then he would feel human instead of some sort of omniscient icon. He would tell everything to that person because he would know that he wouldn't judge him and he'd understand. That person would always be by his side, no matter what, even in life-threatening situations.

Arthur's head whipped around to stare at Merlin. And suddenly the prince saw him for what felt like the first time in his life. Merlin looked like he was feeling sick and he seemed very unsettled, but that wasn't what mattered. Merlin was already everything that Arthur wanted in a friend.

Merlin was always there for him, always right by his side. Merlin was always ready to give him advice even if Arthur didn't want to listen to it. Merlin never failed to be there for him when he was in pain and was always ready to hear any of his problems. The two of them joked around plenty and Arthur trusted him completely, more than he had ever trusted anyone. Not Gaius, not his father, not Morgana, not even Leon did Arthur trust more than Merlin.

Merlin never seemed to expect too much from Arthur, and yet he was always telling him that he was capable of more if he wanted. Merlin stayed with him during difficult times and seemed always willing to ride out to face death with him. Merlin was insanely loyal and never ceased having faith in him no matter how many times Arthur pushed him away. Merlin never gave up on him. And the fact that he was ready and willing to lay down his life for him had been made readily apparent long ago.

For the first time Arthur realized that the person sitting next to him was exactly the type of friend he had always wanted. How could he have been so blind as to never have seen it before? Merlin was a better friend than Arthur had any right to hope for and the prince wanted him to remain by his side as the only person who saw him for who he truly was for the rest of his life.

But there was one thing that Arthur needed to know. The confidence in King Derrick's voice when he had talked about his ability and the look on Merlin's face had told Arthur that there was more going on than he had any idea of. Merlin was keeping something vital from him and Arthur needed to know what it was. Arthur had to ask Merlin, once and for all, if Balinor was his father.

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><p>Ta, da! Yeah, I went there. Again, sorry for the wait. It seems that I, too, along with all the classic introverted writers have health problems. I am certainly praying that this will be the last I'll see of my not-so-dear-friend illness for sometime. From here on out I don't have too much left to write, probably four or so chapters worth, less if they're all as long as this one. I'm a little sad that I'm nearing the end, but it's been a long time coming since I've known how this particular story in this series would end for nearly a year now. Please review and if you have something that you want Merlin and Arthur or Gwaine to talk about then now's the time to tell me. Hopefully I'll see you soon.<p> 


	15. Burdens

Basically this whole chapter was written days ago, but I couldn't post it here because my computer died. As it is, it still doesn't work properly so updates are going to be a little difficult for a while. Anyway, long chapter, hopefully good stuff. Please don't forget to review because I put a lot of work into this chapter.

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><p>Arthur sat on a comfy window seat and gazed out the window at the pouring, gushing rain. He was feeling both massively restless and very depressed, which was not a good combination at all for the anger-prone prince.<p>

According to everyone they had talked to the rain would last for three straight days and end around dawn on the fourth day. They had arrived here just as another cycle of rain had begun, which meant that they would have to wait the full three days before they could continue looking for whatever device was causing both this storm and the one heading towards Camelot.

Already they had waited for over two days and they would still only be able to leave here at dawn tomorrow. But by then, Arthur knew, Camelot might have already perished. This was valuable time that they couldn't afford to waste, and yet they had no choice. If they stepped out in that rain it would kill them, or at least render them unconscious. Apparently the shields that had been put in place to protect the kingdom from the rain were severely weakening and were barely providing cover anymore.

Arthur felt a burning desire to get going, to keep moving so that he could save his people, and that seemed to be that he had left now. Involuntarily Arthur found himself thinking of the very reason he was feeling both depressed and angry. Merlin.

After the king and queen had finished telling the story of Emrys Derrick had explained how they believed that the powerful warlock would come and save them. He had gone on to say that they had a belief that the Border, the magical barrier that separated them from the rest of the world would one day fall as it would be no longer needed. But before then Emrys would visit this side of the Border three times.

"_Once," The king said, full of hope, "he will come trying to find a way to save others and in doing so he will save us. The second time he will come against his will for someone else's evil purposes and the events that will follow will be terrible and shall set great things into motion. And the third time he comes here will be right before the dawn of the new age. He will come seeking assistance in a great battle that will decide the fate of all those with magic and without it. And it is said he will find the help he is looking for."_

Despite his attempts to remember everything his father had taught him, Arthur couldn't help but feel eager and hopeful whenever he thought about the story of Emrys. Unfortunately, whether the legend was true or not didn't really make a difference right now. Camelot was in danger and some tale wouldn't save it.

But Arthur had been so hopeful that night. He had been very excited and anxious for the three of them to retire to their respective rooms so that he could ask Merlin about Balinor. In all the time that he had known Merlin he had mentioned his father just once and all he had said was that he had never known him. But if his father was Balinor then his absence made perfect sense since he had run away from Arthur's own father to hide out in Cenred's kingdom. And Merlin's reaction to the Dragonlord's death could be seen in a whole new light if the man really, truly was his father.

But all of this 'what if-ing' was completely useless until he learned the truth. So after thanking their hosts and saying goodnight they had headed back to their rooms. Merlin had looked utterly exhausted and he had immediately started making a bee-line for his bed. But before he had had the chance to so much as sit down Arthur had grabbed his arm and pulled him into his own room with a confused Gwaine following behind.

"_Really, Arthur," Merlin said exasperatedly, "do you honestly need my assistance getting ready for bed tonight? Can't you take care of yourself for just once?" _

"_Forget about that, Merlin," Arthur said as he hastily closed the door and then turned around to fix his servant with a very serious look. Arthur felt an odd mixture of excitement and fear bubble up inside him. _

"_Merlin, the way King Derrick was talking he seemed very sure of himself and very confident in his power." Arthur both needed to know and desperately didn't want to. "A year and a half ago when we went to find the Dragonlord in the hopes that he'd save Camelot you were acting very strangely. I asked you what was wrong and you said that you were just worried for the people back home. Is that what was really bothering you, or was it something else?"_

_Arthur watched as Merlin went completely still and his eyes slowly closed as if he didn't want to face what was in front of him, which, if Arthur's guess was right, he probably didn't. _

_Merlin opened his mouth as if to say something, but then he closed it. Arthur just stared as Merlin opened and closed his mouth without actually saying anything five times until he finally stopped him. _

_Holding up a hand Arthur said, "Fine, don't answer that. Just tell me this: is Balinor your father? Or are you related to him in some other way? I'll believe whatever you tell me and that will be the end of it." Arthur gently grabbed Merlin's shoulders and stared at him intently. "Merlin, whatever the truth is you can tell me."_

_Over the last week and a half during this trip Arthur had been stuck watching one thing after another happen to Merlin. Not only that, but he had watched as Merlin had tried to cope with his pain, as he had been allowed to touch a unicorn, as he had modestly put himself down as people had praised him, and as he had slowly had the life painfully drained from him all because he had been brave enough to stand up to a monster. _

_Arthur had gotten so tired of watching helplessly. Nothing he had done lately seemed to have made a speck of difference in helping or saving anyone. Not Merlin, not the villagers of Landar, and not even his own people back home. And it was killing Arthur. _

_And so, for yet another time on this awful trip, Arthur watched helplessly. But this time he wasn't powerless to stop something from happening to Merlin, but rather he was powerless to stop Merlin from making a mistake that he could never undo. _

_Arthur could see the turmoil and indecision reflecting in Merlin's eyes_. Come on, Merlin,_ Arthur silently urged. _Please just trust me.

_But for all of Arthur's hopes and prayers he stared at the battle raging in Merlin's head and knew he was losing. Suddenly Merlin's eyes cleared and the boy met his gaze steadily. Voice emotionless and face blank Merlin said, "King Derrick was wrong, Arthur. I guess he made a mistake because I met Balinor for the first time when you did. I'm flattered that he would think I'm related to such a powerful bloodline, but he was wrong. I'm not related to the Dragonlord. I cried when he died because I thought Camelot's only hope of survival had died with him. I'm sorry, Arthur."_

_Arthur''s stomach sank and with it his heart. Merlin had lied. There was no doubt in Arthur's mind for he had seen the war in Merlin's blue orbs. Maybe Balinor wasn't Merlin's father, but somehow, in someway Merlin had lied. And what deeply disturbed Arthur was how easy and natural it seemed to have come to the simple peasant boy. The decision to lie hadn't been easy, that much was clear, but when he had come to it Merlin had made it utterly convincing. Arthur would have believed him if he hadn't been studying him closer than anyone he had ever studied in his life. _

_Out of nowhere all the exhaustion and pain crashed down on him and Arthur swayed slightly and then collapsed into a chair. _

_"Arthur, are you all right?" Merlin asked concernedly, stepping forward as if trying to help. _

_Arthur used one hand to cover his tired face and the other to wave Merlin away. "I'm fine, Merlin, go back to your room. Surely after nearly dying today you can find it in you to get some sleep." Arthur couldn't see what effect his biting words had on Merlin and he didn't want to._

_"Arthur, I-"_

_"Go! Merlin," Arthur yelled, cutting the boy off. Arthur heard from beneath his hand a pair of retreating footsteps and the bedroom door open, and then, after a long moment of silence, close. The prince heard Gwaine huff loudly and angrily, but he didn't anything. After about five minutes of complete, dead silence Arthur spoke, finally removing his hand. "I suppose you're angry at me for yelling?" It was a statement without any emotion or inflection. There were so many roaring feelings coursing through the prince at that moment that he literally couldn't express any of them._

_Gwaine had his arms crossed. He glared at Arthur for a moment before speaking. "I'm always angry at you. But that's not important." Gwaine turned to leave, saying as he did so, "Just don't be too mad at Merlin. He has been through a lot lately and the last thing this quest needs is for us to start fighting each other."_

It was true, Arthur had thought. Merlin had been through much as of late and he was no doubt as desperate as Arthur to save the people back home. But Arthur couldn't help but be angry at Merlin. He hadn't gotten more than a few disturbed minutes of sleep that night. But Arthur wasn't just feeling mad, he was also hurt inside.

It was not that the truth about Balinor or Merlin's heritage mattered that much. Really, Arthur cared as much about whether or not Balinor was Merlin's father as he cared to know the name of the horse Jonathon had been riding. Whatever Merlin had told him would have been okay with Arthur—though, if he really was related to him then the prince would feel rather awkward about Merlin serving him.

Arthur just wanted the truth. Ever since the second that he had come to the realization that Merlin was exactly the kind of friend and brother that he wanted by his side for the rest of his life he had been burning to know one thing. Because the truth about Balinor, whatever it was, was something that Merlin was keeping from him and as long as there were secrets between them they could not have the friendship Arthur wanted. Over and over again Arthur had trusted Merlin with the truth about what he was feeling—and the crowned prince didn't tell just anyone about his less than stellar emotions—and with facts about himself that he just simply wasn't comfortable talking about. Merlin had always been there, listening to his fears, doubts, and moments of grief, and he was always ready to give a piece of advice. But if Merlin didn't trust Arthur with his own secrets, his own fears and worries, then their friendship wasn't the close one the prince had originally thought.

For a long time now Arthur had been expecting that there was more to Merlin than the servant had ever told him, but it wasn't until that moment when he had realized that he didn't have to be alone and partner-less for the rest of his life that he had needed to know. The secret itself didn't matter, just whether or not Merlin trusted and believed in Arthur enough to tell it. But even after all his pleading and words of encouragement Merlin had lied to Arthur's face.

The prince had been deluding himself. They weren't that close at all. Merlin just listened to his moments of weakness because he probably thought that was his job. He gave the advice because the last thing he wanted was his future king to make stupid decisions. And he stuck by his side throughout every danger because he was frankly low on self-preservation and probably had nowhere else that he really cared to be.

Or even if Merlin really was that loyal to him and he really was his friend, he obviously didn't think that Arthur was his.

Arthur had spent the last day and a half with these excruciating thoughts swirling throughout his mind and no matter how hard he tried he never could seem to banish them for more than a few moments at a time.

"If I squint enough I can still see my kingdom through the rain. Even now, drenched and in trouble I consider this land to be the most beautiful thing I have ever seen." It was King Derrick who was talking. While Arthur was lost in his thoughts he had come up behind him and was now gazing out the window just as the prince was. Derrick gave the startled Arthur a good-natured smile. "But, then again, I'm probably biased. I'm sure home always looks this way to people. Beautiful, quaint, but full of opportunities for excitement. And a place that, no matter what happens to it or how much you move on, will always feel like home." The king joined Arthur in sitting on the padded window seat. "In fact, that's why we call this place the Homeland. There aren't any other kingdoms on this side of the Border and so there's really no need for us to name our kingdom, other than to have something to put on banners, of course. But for centuries this place has been called the Homeland because to everyone here it is home. And to those who were forced to leave their first homes we try to make this place a close second." Arthur found himself drawn into what Derrick was saying. The way he was talking to him it was like Arthur was an old friend, instead of someone he'd only met two days ago.

"I love this kingdom," Derrick continued. "The people here are good, kind, loving. They make you feel accepted and welcome." The man's face became sad. "You wouldn't believe how many people there are out there that are afraid that people will hate or fear them. People lie even to the ones they love because they have forgotten that not everyone will judge them unfairly. And that's why they run here, because they hope that here they will no longer have to hide." The king sighed. "I love having new citizens, but my heart breaks for the pain that drives them here. They come here to escape being hounded in on all sides, and yet that's exactly what's happening with this rain. I can't protect them."

"It must really hurt you to see your home like this," Arthur said, feeling his own heart throb as he thought of all the times, including now, that he had been feeling the same pain and burden that this king was now. "How do you bear it?" Enduring the weight and agony of watching his people suffer, and for no good reason, had almost crushed Arthur on a number of occasions. There were times when he was surprised that going through such things hadn't broken him completely.

The king nodded sadly. "It hurts, but I have hope that Emrys will save us. Hope is one of the most powerful things in the world and it's what gives me the strength to continue even while my people are suffering."

"But how do you know?" Arthur asked skeptically. His whole life he had been raised to do things himself in times of trouble. No one was going to come to your aid when you were at your most vulnerable, so you just couldn't afford to ever be that weak. "How do you know that he will save you? What proof do you have that he's even alive?"

Derrick gave a sad smile. "I take it that you don't believe in the prophecy." He didn't wait for Arthur to answer. "I never used to believe. I always thought that the tale of Emrys was just a good story that parents told their children to comfort them and give them hope in a dark world." The man's eyes began to brighten and he started to make gestures with his hands as he talked with an excited enthusiasm. "But then one day, not long after I started dating my beautiful wife, something amazing happened."

"What?" Arthur asked. He was beginning to realize that regardless of what type it was he was always interested in the stories this man had to tell.

King Derrick smiled and his eyes twinkled much as they had while he had been telling the legend of Emrys the other day. "We felt it," he answered, awe clear in his voice. "It was like a wave or an earthquake that didn't shake through the ground, but rather through our magic." He frowned a bit. "I guess it's hard for those who don't have magic to understand, but for those of us with it, it felt like a gentle breeze suddenly becoming an intensely strong wind. I have very little magic and what I do have I'm not very in-tune with, but even I felt the surge of magic that suddenly came into the world.

"You see, each person's magic is not really their own. They can use it towards their own goals and can even abuse it, but the magic is never really theirs. It is borrowed; something they are merely allowed to use for a short time. And because no magic actually belongs to anyone it is all connected. Some people think that magic is a sentient entity and dictates all fate. Others believe that magic is ruled by a powerful god that chooses to give it to some people. And some people think that magic just is and there is no real reason for it. But at the end of the day, regardless of what you believe, you cannot deny that all magic is connected."

The king leaned forward a bit. "I'm telling you this so that you'll understand what I mean when I say that I felt a strong change in the current of magic. Whenever someone with the ability to use magic is born it resonates throughout all magic, but because even the most powerful of sorcerer's magic is small in the grand scheme of things no one, unless they are incredibly sensitive, actually feels it. But this…this was something that everyone with even a hint of the ability felt.

"It was like being in a dark and cold place your whole life and then suddenly stepping into a warm, bright room filled with everyone you love."

That actually sounded rather wonderful to Arthur. He could tell, for these people, this magic coming into the world was a light in the darkness, was the peace after years of war. It was hope.

"The ripple of magic that I felt," the king who was lost in his own story continued, "was so powerful that it actually knocked me and my wife to the ground."

A voice in Arthur head that sounded a lot like his father suddenly said: _Of course, magic only hurts and destroys. _With some difficulty Arthur pushed those types of thoughts away.

"It didn't hurt," Derrick said and Arthur got the feeling that the king had heard his thoughts. "It was merely that strong." He smiled. "That was one of the best days of my life. It wasn't just the power of it that made me finally believe in all the fantastical stories I had heard; it was how old and yet new it felt. How pure and loving this magic that was flooding my mind was."

The king shook his head. "There was no doubt in anyone's mind after that day that the Golden Age of Emrys was coming. We knew, though very few of us actually spoke of it, that Emrys had been born, that he was here to change all our lives. No one with magic that pure and powerful and compassionate could be anyone other than the man of legend.

"Ever since that day I have believed and have been eagerly looking forward to the day when no one has to run and hide anymore." King Derrick gazed out the window once more. "Hoping that he will come and save us is the only thing keeping me going. It's killing me to see my people suffering like this. I wanted to go on a quest to find whatever is causing this misery and put an end to it, but my wife said that it would only result in my death and no one would be saved. Risa, she…sees and understands things that others can't. It's a gift. She saw this storm coming and she also knows that it will soon end." Derrick looked back at Arthur. "I don't know what I'd do without her. She makes me strong and keeps me fair. I love her more than life."

Arthur's thoughts drifted to Guinevere. He missed her and would give anything to just hold her in his arms. Instead he was here; trapped inside a castle as every day the people he loved, including Gwen, were rapidly running out of time to live.

King Derrick abruptly stood up. "I have hope," he clapped Arthur on the shoulder, "you shouldn't let go of yours. The dawn is coming." He began to walk away, but after about seven steps he stopped and turned partially towards Arthur. "I may not have my wife's ability to see things that others can't, but what I can see I see clearly. Take it from me…Merlin trusts you more than you think."

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><p>Merlin held his head in his hands. It was aching terribly from all the frantic "what-if-ing" he had been doing. The warlock was beginning to think that it would have been better if he had never tagged along on this quest. Perhaps, if he hadn't been there, Arthur and Gwaine, or maybe just Arthur, would never have run into so many monsters. If Merlin had stayed in Camelot everything might be all right now. Arthur might have already saved everyone back home if it weren't for Merlin slowing him down.<p>

Merlin knew that this was his job; protecting Arthur. He had never really had a choice about going on this quest with him. The manservant didn't care about what destiny told him to do; in fact, he never did what he was supposed to do just for destiny's sake. No, the true reason he had journeyed across the Border with Arthur was because he would never forgive himself if even the slightest thing happened to him because he wasn't there to stop it. Arthur was like a brother to Merlin and there was no way that his emotions would have let him stay behind.

But everything was such a mess now. Maybe he wasn't giving Arthur enough credit. If he had let Arthur go alone maybe he would have been fine. But regardless of what could have happened Merlin knew he had been more of a hindrance on this trip than a help. His injuries and near-death had slowed them down, which may end up being the fatal mistake for Camelot. How was he supposed to protect and save everyone if he was too hurt to even remain conscious?

None of that horribleness was the worst of it, though. On top of all the terrible things they had been through upon finally getting a moment to relax the king and queen had started talking about Merlin's heritage and Emrys. Merlin had been so scared and worried. Eventually, however, he had stopped caring that much about what they said because his body and his mind had become simply too tired and overused to feel much of anything other than exhausted.

But he had started to feel anxious again once Arthur had pulled him into his room and he noticed the very serious look in his eyes. Then the prince had asked him the very thing that he had been afraid he'd ask since Gaius had told him about his father. Merlin had frozen completely still when Arthur had finished his question. He had no idea what to say. How could he answer something that, much like his magic, could get him killed?

It had warmed Merlin's heart to hear Arthur say that he could trust him. The servant got the feeling that no matter what he told him Arthur would be okay with it.

Merlin knew he could tell Arthur, that this was probably the best time not only to tell him about his parentage but also his magic. Away from Camelot, here in this place that literally thrummed with kind magic and among people who had just related the prophecy of Emrys to Arthur—what better time could there be to tell the prince all of his secrets?

But as much as Merlin yearned to spill everything, for there to be nothing left to hide anymore, he just couldn't. All his life he had had the importance of keeping his secret at all costs ingrained into his mind. His whole life he had never really told anyone…except for Freya. Everyone else had learned by accident—Gaius, his father, his mother had known from the beginning and even Will—because Merlin had never willingly told them.

He had performed magic around Freya for various reasons, but mostly because he could see that she needed a friend that she knew she could trust. But other than her he had never once broken his promise to his mother that he would guard his secret fiercely. Telling people, sharing a part of himself that was so personal and such a source of fear for him—firstly because he was afraid of being caught and killed and then later because the sheer power of it scared him and made him fear hurting others—was something that he wasn't sure how to do. His time with Freya had been so magical and wonderful in so many ways. And being around her, talking to her, showing her aspects of who he was that not even his mother understood; it had all felt so easy and natural.

But now, being faced with telling Arthur after all these years, he didn't know if he could. Everything had been so crazy lately and he was so tired and his magic was in turmoil from all it had been through and from the crushing weight of his emotions. Merlin didn't know how to tell Arthur. He was afraid of all the things that could go wrong, especially now at a time when the whole world seemed on the brink of destruction.

He knew what Gaius would say. The old man would tell him to keep his secret and wait at least for a time when Arthur was king and Merlin was no longer in any danger from Uther. Gaius' first instinct was always to protect him, even if it meant giving up his best chance at convincing Arthur. But his mother, Hunith, she would tell him to trust his heart, to do what he knew inside him was right. She would say that if he truly trusted Arthur and believed he could handle the truth then he should tell him.

Merlin didn't know what to do or how to do it. If he lied here and now he was sure a part of him would die inside. But if he told Arthur…he didn't know how to get the words out. He didn't have to tell him about his magic, but in his mind Balinor being his father had always been directly connected to his most powerful secret and telling one was just like telling the other.

Merlin opened his mouth to answer Arthur's question truthfully, but no words would come out. It was like he was frozen in this awful moment and no matter what he chose he would hate himself. After all, how could it be a good idea to tell Arthur just as a storm, caused by someone with an evil purpose in mind had used powerful magic, was about to destroy everything that mattered to him?

Merlin wanted to tell him but…now wasn't the right time for either of them.

And so Merlin had lied, but, judging by Arthur's reaction, the prince had known it. Merlin hadn't talked to his friend and master since he had yelled at him to leave. They had seen each other a couple of times in passing, but for the most part they had been avoiding each other's company. Gwaine had tried to cheer Merlin up, but the servant had politely told him that he wanted to be alone.

Ever since that night Merlin had been plagued by a nasty headache off and on. Merlin knew that it was the stress and exhaustion of all that his body had been through recently combined with how angry his magic was at him. It wasn't the only thing.

The warlock knew that Arthur was angry at him, though why he wasn't entirely sure. Was it just because he had lied to him or because he thought that his reluctance to tell the truth was because Balinor really was his father? Was Arthur angry because of the lie, or because he really would hate Merlin for his parentage?

And as for Merlin, he wasn't angry at Arthur, he just wished that this whole thing was one bad nightmare. Everything, since the beginning of this quest had gone so wrong. And now, not only had he lied again to Arthur and possibly ruined his best chance of ever telling him the truth, but apparently his life and the lives of his friends were in danger again.

As if that night hadn't been bad enough, on the way bad to his room after being almost banished by Arthur, Queen Risa had ambushed him.

After pulling him sharply into a nearby alcove she had said, _"Merlin, you aren't safe here."_

_Surprised for about the fifth time that night, it took Merlin a moment to comprehend what she had said. "What…what do you mean?" Truthfully, Merlin didn't want to know what she was talking about. He'd give anything not to have any more worries or problems and to just be able to get some sleep. But Merlin put aside what he needed when he saw how frantic this woman, who usually seemed very composed, was. _

_The queen ran a nervous hand through her hair and let out a shaky breath. "I don't know exactly. I just know that you and your friends have to leave here as soon as possible. Whatever this danger is it could be fatal."_

_At her words adrenaline started coursing through Merlin's system and his magic let him know that it was ready the second he needed it. Dread pooled in Merlin's stomach and he asked slowly, "I don't understand. How do you know that we're in danger? Besides, we can't leave just yet. You said yourself that if we stepped outside the rain would kill us."_

_Risa put her face in her hand and lent back against one of the alcove's walls. Merlin noticed that she was breathing heavily and that she seemed like she had been scared by something. She removed her hand and looked up at him. Normally she would be taller than him, but in her current slumped state that wasn't the case. "Then you'll have to leave as soon as the rain lets up. But you cannot stay here. I wish I could protect you or tell you more. I'm not a seer, I don't see things, but I do feel them and I know that your life and your destiny hangs in the balance."_

_Merlin instinctively tried to take a step back, but his back was already against the wall. "What do you mean 'destiny'?"_

"_Merlin…I know who you are," the queen answered, fixing him with that awed-look that she had had while telling Arthur the legend. "I know you're Emrys. Your destiny, all the things you're meant to do and all the things you're meant to accomplish, they are too important for anything to get in the way of. There are so many things you haven't done yet. And I can't think of a worse ending to your story than you dying before you even get to all the good stuff."_

"_The good stuff?" Merlin heard himself ask hollowly. By this point he had stopped sending commands to his body. He'd gone through too much lately. It was time to shut down._

"_Merlin," she said, "things may be hard now, but that won't last. Eventually you'll have everything you hope for and more. I was completely serious when I said that your friendship with Arthur will be the greatest one in history. You will get repaid for all the pain and suffering you've had to go through a thousand times over. And you can't die like this; before getting the happiness you deserve."_

_Merlin shook his head. "You're mistaken. I'm flattered that you think I'm Emrys, but I'm not." Even to his own ears the lie felt flat. At this point what did it matter? She obviously knew and probably no amount of lying could persuade her otherwise. Unlike Camelot, it seemed that in this place his secrets couldn't stand._

"_Deny it all you want, but it won't change the truth or my warning." Merlin studied the queen closely. Her disheveled appearance and the wild fear and desperation that only just begun to fade from her eyes reminded Merlin of the time Morgana had pulled him aside, convinced that Arthur's life was in danger. "Please Merlin," she continued, "for all our futures, please leave here as soon as possible. I don't know exactly when or how, but I know that you will get gravely injured if you stay here." Abruptly, the queen straightened up and the manic and delirious look vanished from her eyes and she stepped out of the alcove. "Please, Emrys, be careful and keep your friends close." And with that she was gone, walking down the hallway and not so much as looking back at him before Merlin could so much as blink._

Merlin had simply had enough. He couldn't deal with this…this anxiety and fear and pain and so many lies. He appreciated what Risa had tried to do for him and that she had told him everything she knew, but he couldn't do anything about this impending doom while he was stuck in this castle.

He didn't know what to do. All the stories about him made him sound like he was all-knowing and all-powerful, but that was not at all the case. More now than ever he was at a loss as to what to do. He still had no idea how close they were to whatever object was responsible for this vicious storm and at the moment it felt like not only did he have a sword hanging over his head but Arthur might never talk to him again. Merlin had spent almost every second in his designated room sitting in a chair imprisoned by his agonizing thoughts about when he had seen the look on Arthur's face and he had noticed the clear hurt and anger in the his eyes.

Merlin needed all this uncertainty to end. At this point he wasn't even sure if he was afraid of this possibly fatal danger that was coming his way. He had been through so much that he felt numb to all but the pain of losing his friends and lying to Arthur. Right now, Merlin didn't have the energy to care about much of anything. And yet, despite that, the memory of how hurt and devastated Arthur had looked when he had lied to him kept playing over and over in his mind until Merlin felt like throwing up. He couldn't do this. Whatever was going to happen would happen, but he couldn't take the second-guessing and the not-knowing anymore. It was going to drive him insane.

Merlin jumped in his uncomfortable seat—it probably wasn't that uncomfortable, everything just felt that way to Merlin at the moment—as he heard a knock sound on the door of his way-too-fancy room. "Come in," he called awkwardly. He was so unused to such a nice room that he had been afraid to touch it at all. Back in Camelot he had no problems touching and moving things around in the royal rooms, but that was only because he was straightening and cleaning the room like he was supposed to. But this room wasn't meant to be cleaned by him, instead, he was supposed to use it and sleep in the bed that was so soft that it felt wrong to sleep in. When the maid had come by this morning to give him his breakfast and to clean up she had been thoroughly surprised that the bed had been made and that the fire was roaring and that nothing at all had to be done.

The door opened and the same maid as before came in carrying a tray of food that Merlin had no appetite for. The woman set the food down on a table, looking around as she did so. "You haven't moved from that spot since I came by at breakfast, if I may observe," she said politely, but Merlin got the feeling of kind disapproval. Another thing Merlin had noticed about this place was that none of the servants were timid or shy here. They were very kind and cordial, but also completely comfortable expressing their opinions. It warmed Merlin's almost numb heart a bit to know that _somewhere_ servants were being treated as people.

"No, I haven't," Merlin answered simply. His cramped legs and his aching neck from being in exactly the same position for the last four hours felt like just a small portion of the pain he deserved for the horrible lies he had been telling Arthur ever since he met him.

The maid walked over to him. "Let's go for a walk through the castle, once you're done eating, that is."

"What?" Merlin asked, startled by the odd direction the conversation had taken and by her bluntness.

The maid sighed and grabbed his arms and began pulling him out of the chair. "It's not healthy to be left alone with one's own thoughts for too long. It's okay and even useful to brood over them for a few minutes, but after that the endless circle becomes damaging as, with every circular repeat, all the thoughts and emotions spiral down to one feeling: despair. Eventually even the most logically minded will dig themselves into a hole of their own making. That is when a good walk and some pleasant company is needed." By now she had succeeded in pulling him up and now proceeded to push him down onto the stool next to the table with his food on it. "I'm done with my duties for the day," she handed him a fork, "so once you're done eating I could show you some of the parts of this castle that don't seem so gloomy in the light of this awful rain. Now eat."

Merlin found himself obeying her command and eating the warm food that, though it had no taste on his tongue, felt good in his belly.

The maid was very matter-of-fact, but in a kind way and her voice softened even more when she saw him eating. "Of course, you don't have to walk with me, but right now you shouldn't be alone. Besides, you'd be doing me a favor since after so many days cooped up in this castle I'm sick of being around everyone who is just as restless as me. New company would be good for me."

Merlin gazed up at her. Her bluntness combined with the compassion and understanding in her voice—two things that didn't usually together—was intriguing and almost funny on this drear day. The warlock knew he needed to stop moping and get out because he'd probably end up killing himself if things continued the way they had been all day. "What's your name?" he asked.

She smiled. "Faith."

Merlin nearly choked on his food as a laugh rose up in his throat.

"What is it?" she asked as she handed him a glass of water. "Is my name that funny? I've heard worse ones."

"No," Merlin said after he gulped down some water. "It's just that you remind me of someone I met not long ago in the village Landar. She had the same bluntness as you and your names are even similar."

Faith cocked her head. "This person's name wouldn't happen to be Mercy, would it?" she asked slyly.

Merlin nodded; surprised that she knew her name.

Faith laughed slightly. "I grew up with Mercy. She's one of my best friends. About a year ago I moved here to spend more time with my mother, who's lonely, and I haven't stopped missing Mercy since."

"Faith and Mercy," Merlin stated in wonder. "What are the odds of you two being friends?"

Faith nudged his arm to get him to continue eating and then said, "I like to think that we are destined to be sisters in all but blood. But maybe that's just wishful thinking." She grinned fondly.

Her words struck a chord within Merlin. So many people said things about his destiny, but really the only part he truly believed was that he belonged at Arthur's side. "Maybe if it feels like it's meant to be then it is."

Faith gave him an examining look. "Well, ready to see the beauties of Brightbrook castle?" she asked, noticing that he was refusing to eat any more.

Merlin nodded and together they left the room. For several minutes they walked down the various hallways in silence before Faith inquired, "So, what was so bad that it was trapping you inside your own head?"

Merlin sighed. "A lot of things, I guess. For years now things have just been piling up. Painful memories, things that I had no control over but should've, failures, dangers, and lies." Merlin's eyes fixed on a stained glass window that depicted a ring of trees that seemed to have ghosts coming out of them. "There are some days when I hardly recognize myself and I don't know who I am anymore." Involuntarily a tear fell. "And then there are days when I know exactly who I am and what I'm supposed to do, but the future has never seemed so impossible or difficult to achieve."

"Hey." Faith put a hand on his shoulder, effectively pulling them both to a stop. Merlin tried to compose himself as he looked into her eyes, but it was of no use. Faith held out her right hand, palm up and said, "Dægrædléoma." Her eyes glowed faintly and in her hand appeared a floating, small ball of yellow light.

Merlin watched as the light seemed to slowly unravel itself and morph into a different shape. Not only the form, but also the color as well changed and soon the light was a vibrant purple that pulsed. Merlin stared in wonder at the delicate-looking purple flower that was made entirely out of light. Sure, this magic wasn't that impressive, but it was beautiful and Merlin rarely ever got to see magic that wasn't being used to hurt someone.

"This is all that I can do," Faith said. "I can manipulate light according to my will, but I can't perform any other spell. I've tried practicing healings spells and spells of protection or cleaning or even spells like the kind that shield us from this storm." She nodded to the harsh rain out the window. "But no matter what I try nothing works but this. My mother always told me that that was all right, that I didn't need to be able to do anything more with my gift. As long as I governed what I have with wisdom and kindness then I don't need to have any more.

"For a long time I thought that my powers were useless because I couldn't help anybody with them. But then one day a little girl was brought to the healers because her own dad had brutally beaten her." Merlin felt his heart ache at the thought. "Naturally, the king and queen dealt with him, but the girl still needed help. Though the healers could fix her body, they couldn't help her mind. Every night she had horrible nightmares that terrified her and kept her from sleeping and nothing anyone did could make them vanish.

"Eventually I visited her. I performed my magic for her, a small, circling sun, a color-changing flower and even figures dancing. By the end she was smiling and even laughing. That night she didn't have a single nightmare." Faith smiled at the memory and Merlin couldn't help but feel gladdened at the story.

"But my point is," Faith said as the flower in her hand formed into something that looked like a mixture between a horse and a man, "that even though my powers were insignificant they managed to help and heal a little girl who had been through something terrible. Where all the people with stronger powers and greater destinies than I failed to cheer her up I succeeded." The light changed into a dragon bending down to a man. "The healers here are very skilled and the king and queen are the best this kingdom has ever seen, and yet the healers can't help everyone and their majesties can't stop this rain. No matter how powerful or strong you are you can't do everything, but that's okay. Someone else like me will."

Faith held up her hand higher as once again the light morphed into something else. A fountain. "You don't have to hold the weight of the world on your shoulders, Merlin," she said seriously. "You can't, no one can. Saving everyone is impossible, but you don't have to worry because someone else will. Someone whose worries and responsibilities aren't as big as yours, but whose destiny is no less important to the people their helping." The fountain turned into a coin. "Forget about all the things that have been weighing on you and focus on the one thing that matters most to you. The one thing, the one person that gives you the kind of strength you would never have otherwise.

"I used my magic that night more than I've ever been able to before because seeing how happy I was making her gave me the power to continue." Faith smiled. "Follow what your heart tells you and everything else will fall into place if it's meant to. Trying to be larger than life because you think you have to or brooding over your failures isn't going to work. But if you forget all of that and just focus on the people or things in your life that make you stronger and happier than you had ever hoped to be then you'll finally begin to recognize yourself."

Merlin took a faltering step back. He had been so preoccupied with all the lives that rested on him and his burdening destiny that he had forgotten the point, forgotten how this had all begun in the first place. It was about Arthur, his friend. The friend who he had pulled out of the path of a dagger, who he had stayed up all night practicing a spell until his head felt like it was going to split open for, who had risked his life to save a lowly servant's in getting the antidote to a poison, who Merlin had endured torture for and who, in turn, had gotten him safely home to Gaius' medical help. If Merlin put aside all his fears and worries about the future then he realized that he wanted nothing more than to tell Arthur all of his secrets.

Suddenly Merlin felt his heart and magic soar. Faith was right. He had to let go of everything that would kill him to hold on to. And if he did that then…Merlin felt adrenaline flood his system. He had to find Arthur. It was time to tell him the truth.

Merlin glanced around and realized that he wasn't entirely sure where they were or how to get back to their rooms. "Faith…how do we get back? I have something I need to tell one of my friends. You were right." Merlin felt like he was buzzing with excitement and joy at the burden he had released.

Faith smiled as if she understood the change that had come about so abruptly in him. "Come with me." She held out her hand and Merlin eagerly took it as she led him down the passage ways.

Merlin felt overcome with happiness. He was finally going to tell Arthur. But then they turned a corner and the sight that met Merlin stole away all his excitement. For some reason whatever he was seeing filled him with that familiar sensation of dread. Perhaps this was what Risa has warned him about. Perhaps he wouldn't get the chance to tell Arthur at all.

* * *

><p>Not long after King Derrick had left Arthur alone Gwaine had appeared seemingly out of nowhere to bother the prince with his company.<p>

"What's with the moping, Princess?" he asked with a smug smile on his face. "Angry that for once no one is treating you like royalty?"

Arthur gave a half-hearted smile. By now almost all of the anger was drained out of him. King Derrick's words had calmed him down. "Actually it's helped keep me hidden here. The last thing we need is them figuring out who I really am."

Gwaine gave him a curious look as he heard the almost apathy in Arthur's voice. "You're not still hung up on whatever Merlin is keeping secret, are you?"

Arthur looked away. He couldn't help but to keep coming back to it in his head. "I never really thought that Merlin would lie to me."

"I doubt he wanted to, mate," Gwaine said. "We're all entitled to keep a few secrets. Perhaps Merlin didn't tell you the truth, not because he didn't want to, but rather because the truth was too painful for him to voice." Arthur hadn't considered that.

"Think about it," Gwaine continued without even looking over to see if Arthur was even paying attention, "on the outside Merlin might seem like he hasn't a care in the world, but I've looked closer and I've seen that that simply isn't true. Merlin has some pain buried inside and maybe he lied to you for the very same reason that he pretends to always be happy and care-free. Because the pain is just too great."

Is some ways Arthur was acutely aware of some of the terrible suffering Merlin had endured in his life. When the idiot had told him the story of his past where he had been tortured in an attempt to get him to confess to something he hadn't done Arthur had felt honored that he was the first person Merlin had ever told. But as painful as the telling of that story had been for Merlin he still had done it, which begged the question: what could be worse than that? Was Merlin really keeping a secret that was worse than his whipping?

"Or perhaps," Gwaine said as he shrugged, "he doesn't consider you a good enough of a friend." Arthur's head snapped over at that and he was met with one of Gwaine's obnoxious grins. "Relax," Gwaine said as he slapped Arthur on the back so hard that he nearly stumbled forward. "I was just joking." His eyes suddenly grew serious. "But even if that weren't the case you may want to ask yourself if you are as good of a friend to Merlin as you could be. Personally, I don't think you treat him the way he deserves, but my opinion doesn't really matter to Merlin. After all, he was the one who first convinced me to give you a second look and stop assuming. If it weren't for Merlin's convincing I'd hate you. As it is, I just don't like you that much." His eyes twinkled in merriment while Arthur scowled.

"Anyway, whatever his reasons, Merlin has a right to his privacy." Gwaine's stomach growled. "And you and I have a right to eat. Come on." The man started pulling Arthur along.

Arthur forcefully freed himself from Gwaine's grasp. "I didn't even realize what time it was."

Gwaine glanced back at him. "That's because you've been sulking all day, Princess."

"I have not!" Arthur retorted.

"Well, I don't know of a kinder way of saying 'moping and whining like a little child'. In fact, both you and Merlin have been. It seems that I am the only one who is happy to have a roof over his head, not being chased by monsters, that no one is injured, and, more importantly, that there is ale." Gwaine grinned at the thought of his favorite drink. "The two of you are just being sissies."

Arthur caught up to the drunk and glared at him. "Gwaine…shut up."

It looked like Gwaine was going to say something—he was probably going to call him princess again—but he was interrupted by the nearby sound of running footsteps, banging doors, and people clamoring.

Curious, the two of them followed the sound until they found its source. They came upon a long hallway that the royal couple, being led by a servant, was hurriedly rushing down. The king and queen came to a halt and stared at the sight opposite them. At the end of the hallway and next to two great doors, dripping wet and making his own puddles, was a dark, thin man. He was surrounded by perhaps twenty men. And despite being wet Arthur could tell that his clothes were that of a royal or at least a noble.

"Eric!" the king cried in surprise and happiness.

"Son, you're home." Oddly enough Queen Risa was more reserved with her emotion than her husband, but nonetheless she rushed forward with him to embrace their son.

Eric held up a hand to stop them. "I'm drenched. Mother, Father, at least wait until I'm dry. You both look so nice that I'd hate to soil what you're wearing." He delivered the complement smoothly, but his tone lacked sincerity. In fact, his voice was soft and graceful and his pronunciation so perfect that it made Arthur uncomfortable. It seemed that he had inherited his mother's mysterious and disconcerting way of speaking, but none of either of his parents' kindness. Unlike everyone Arthur had met here this man hadn't a hint of compassion or love in his voice, only coldness.

Impossibly, the man was taller than his mother and his eyes almost seemed to glow in what Arthur could only describe as unhealthy. People bustled around the prince, taking off his outer garments and attempting to dry him, offering him food and wine and even giving him a chair. Arthur noticed with great surprise that the servants buzzing around him looked frightened and scared out of their minds. It wasn't too unusual to see that in Camelot with really timid or new servants or just people who were around Uther in general, but rarely this scared or this many. Over the years most servants grew used to even Uther's presence and tendency to get angry, but these people were acting like scared children. These were the same servants that had been so bold and comfortable throughout Arthur's whole stay here.

On some sort of instinct Arthur's eyes drifted across the room from him and, much like he had strangely expected, discovered that Merlin was there with a friend as well. They shared a look of apprehension before Arthur turned his attention back to the man who was putting him on edge.

Prince Eric waved off the servants rather sharply. "Thank goodness we had a sorcerer with us or we would never have gotten through that rain. What's going on, Father? This rain can't be natural."

"A lot of has happened while you were away, son," King Derrick answered.

Eric's green and twinkling eyes alighted on Arthur and his lips formed briefly into a thin smile. "Obviously I have missed much. Who are our guests?"

The king and queen turned around and for the first time realized who were behind them. Risa recovered quickly from her shock and gestured them forward saying, "Of course. Eric these three are Gwaine, Merlin, and Arcturus. Gwaine, Merlin, Arcturus, this is our son Eric."

Slowly, almost gliding, Eric walked over to Arthur and extended his hand to him. "Arcturus, is it? Odd, that name doesn't fit you. Then again, we can't choose our names, can we?" Eric gave him a smile that sent shivers down Arthur's spine.

"No, we can't," Arthur conceded and reached his own hand forward to shake his proffered one.

Eric gave Arthur a look that made him feel like some prey that a sly wolf was hunting. "Well, Arcturus, it is a pleasure to meet you. I must say that it is wonderful to see friendly and _familiar_ faces once again. Now I must go and rest after my journey, but don't worry. I'm sure we'll meet again very soon." And with that Eric pulled his hand away and strode off, not looking back.

Once more Arthur's gaze found Merlin's and suddenly all the conflicting emotions that he had been feeling towards the boy melted away as, together, they shared a look of dread.

* * *

><p>We really are nearing the end even if it doesn't seem like it. This story is very much a questing story and half the point of it was for the trio to keep getting stalled by one problem after another. Next chapter a lot of things happen and I'm really planning, not that my plans ever pull through, to post that very soon. Please review.<p> 


	16. Hurt, again

I was going to make this chapter longer, but then I realized something. Today is the, wait for it, one year anniversary of when I first became a member on this site! So, basically, I had to post something today.

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><p>Dinner with the royal family that night was uncomfortable and awkward with the new—or perhaps old—addition. Prince Eric seemed to have been perfectly happy with the silence as well as being the only one to ever break it. The prince talked about his journey and some of the fascinating and horrible things he had seen on the other side of the Border—particularly that the people there were cruel, savage, and inhuman, much to Arthur's anger. Never once during the entire meal did Eric talk to or address the three of them, but he frequently sent almost menacing looks at Arthur.<p>

After the unnerving and possibly traumatizing dinner Arthur had been eager to get some sleep, but Merlin had prevented it. Now he knew how Merlin had felt that first night. Arthur just _loved _karma.

"I have to tell you something," Merlin had said.

If only Arthur hadn't been so tired and had paid attention to his servant at that particular moment for if he had he would have seen the excited nervousness in his eyes and would have let him continue talking. As it was, however, Arthur was still feeling a bit weird around Merlin and so the prince adamantly refused to look his friend in the eye and therefore missed out in what could have been one of the best moments of his life.

And so, instead of listening, Arthur had said to his friend as he began shrugging out of his formal coat, "Not now, Merlin, I'm tired. Whatever it is can't it wait until morning?" Arthur yawned and completely missed how Merlin deflated.

"Of course, Arthur." Merlin turned to leave but then stopped himself. "But we should leave early tomorrow. For Camelot."

And that was why Arthur had woken up at the fourth hour of the morning with Merlin's dejected tone circling trough his head. Unable to sleep Arthur had taken a walk in the hopes of making himself tired once again or at least giving himself something to do. Arthur wasn't sure how long he wandered the halls before he was broken out of the five hundredth replay of Merlin's despondent voice in his head by the sound, which seemed very loud in the utter silence the prince had been in, of a floorboard creaking heavily not too far away.

Ignoring his knight's instincts, Arthur felt a ray of eager hope spring up inside him. He had woken up out of troubled dreams feeling inexplicably like he had missed out on a wonderfully great opportunity that he believed had something to do with Merlin. So upon hearing what was possibly the sound of someone else up Arthur found himself wishing that it was his ridiculous servant. But as Arthur saw a figure emerged from around a corner and come face to face with him what few good thoughts the prince had melted away.

"Why, isn't it Arcturus?" that silky and cold voice intoned. "What are you doing up so very early in the morning?"

"Couldn't sleep," Arthur replied simply as he unconsciously backed away from the silhouette of Eric.

Suddenly Eric lunged forward unexpectedly and before Arthur could react he had been pinned to the wall with the foreign prince's arm half choking him. By a dim shard of light coming in through a window Arthur could now see Eric's face and it was burning with rage.

"Did you think that _you_ could _blend_ in perfectly here?" Eric accused with an incredulous and self-righteous anger coloring his tone. "I know who you are and exactly the kind of filthy blood you have running through your veins. You're a Pendragon!" Then he added in a mocking tone, "Or should I just call you Arthur?"

Arthur was so taken aback at Eric's terrifying rage and the abruptness of his outburst as well as the relative shortness of air that he was getting into his brain that it only occurred to the prince to fight back just as Eric began pulling him forward, but by then it was too late. Eric slammed Arthur back against the wall so strongly that pain shot through Arthur's head and his vision went out for a brief moment.

"I have my father's gift," Eric snarled. "I just journeyed to Camelot and the things I saw there... Everyone was either afraid or far too full of themselves for no good reason. And your father, well," he gave an enraged chuckle, something that Arthur hadn't even been aware was possible before now, "well I saw him giving a speech to all his people about how great it was for them to be living in such good times where magic no longer plagues them." Eric grabbed Arthur's hair roughly and the prince managed to form a coherent thought long enough to raise an arm in protest, but the angry prince just grasped his wrist and smashed it powerfully into the wall. Arthur knew without a doubt that that would bruise heavily.

Eric tightened his grip on Arthur's hair and roared, "Uther treats magic like a disease, like a rabid wolf to either be driven out or killed! But _he's_ the monster, _he's_ the vermin. All my life I've been hearing tales of the cruel and merciless Uther Pendragon and his no good son that is growing up to be just like him." Eric let go of Arthur's hair only to wrap his fingers around his throat and begin to squeeze. "I've known ever since then that one day my sword would taste the vile blood of a Pendragon." Eric spat on the floor in disgust, but didn't loosen his grasp on Arthur's throat.

Arthur couldn't get enough air and his vision was getting blurry as his weak hands fumbled, trying to get Eric's hands to release him.

But despite the rapidly declining attention of his audience member Eric kept on talking. "And every time I've killed I've done it imagining that I was sticking my blade through the chest of a Pendragon. Especially my first kill." Eric laughed with a sadistic fondness. "A girl's brother was going to tell my parents that I had raped his sister and, well, I couldn't have that. But even as the light faded from his eyes I dreamt that it was you or your father who lay dying before me. But now I have my chance to get what I've always wanted most." Eric released his hold on Arthur and stepped back, almost as if admiring his work.

Arthur collapsed to the ground in a heap, coughing and wheezing and doing his best to suck in enough air.

"But I'm going to do it right this time," Eric puled a long silver knife out of its sheath and gazed at it lovingly and ran his finger up and down the blade as he tutted to himself. "In the past I have been sloppy with my kills, which only led to more kills to keep everything quiet. You see, Arthur, unlike you I don't like to kill unless it's necessary."

Having finally regained enough breath to think straight Arthur lifted his head and glared at the monster passing for a man in front of him. Summoning his strength that had been depleted from the lack of air Arthur tried to get to his feet, planning on defending himself then finding his friends and getting out of here.

Seeing that Arthur was attempting to stand, Eric stopped admiring his knife and drew back his arm only to sling it forward and knock a powerful punch into his victim's jaw. The forced of it slammed Arthur into the ground.

Eric knelt down and grabbed a fistful of Arthur's shirt, pulling his head up so he could look at him. "If I am the one responsible for neutralizing the threat of any future Pendragons my people will love and revere me forever. I'll become so much greater than my parents. And best of all I'll finally have what I've wanted for so long. To stain my sword with the blood of a Pendragon. 'Cause, you see, you won't ever make it to your execution. You will, mysteriously, be able to overpower the guards escorting you to your death and you will take one of their swords and drive it into your own stomach in the hopes of having a less painful demise." Eric laughed and for a moment his face was completely gleeful, but in a flash the joy turned to unfathomable hate. "But it won't be. I'll make sure your death is nice and excruciating. Just what an animal deserves."

Again Eric's arm drew back and another painful punch made Arthur's head whip to the side.

"Hey!" A voice from seemingly nowhere called angrily. The part of Arthur that wasn't still reeling from the pain and disorientation of the last couple of minutes recognized the voice. Merlin. Monstrous fear and dread filled Arthur at the thought of Merlin being here now so that Eric could hurt him, too. "Merlin," Arthur coughed out, "get out of here!" But before Arthur could even look over at his friend to warn him further something streaked across his blurry vision and the pull on his shirt disappeared as well as the tall and dark figure of Eric over him. Suddenly the man that had been attacking him was gone, out of sight.

* * *

><p>Merlin woke up with a start and screamed in pain and surprise. He was always very good at keeping the walls around his magic in place, even when he was asleep, but right now his magic was literally throwing itself at those walls, hence the resulting pain. His magic hadn't reacted this violently in a long, long time and Merlin knew that it was desperate. Desperate to leave, to find Arthur, to get out of this place as soon as humanly possible, if not sooner.<p>

Merlin rushed out of bed in a daze and grabbed the few items of his that were with him and then dashed out of his room and into Arthur's. But upon arriving inside, Merlin realized that Arthur wasn't there.

Panic overcoming his mind and his magic frantic beyond words, Merlin found himself pounding on Gwaine's door.

"Merlin! What is it?" A sleepy and yet wary Gwaine asked as he yanked open his door.

"We have to leave, now!" Merlin had to struggle to keep his voice down and to keep the pure desperation and fear from his tone.

Gwaine seemed to study him for a brief moment before deciding to do as he was told. "Where's Arthur?" the roguish man asked as he hefted his small pack of things.

"I don't know, he's not in his room," Merlin answered as he attempted to listen to what his magic was trying to tell him exactly.

"I'm sure he just went for a walk or something," Gwaine said. "It's okay, Merlin," he added. It was obvious that he was trying to calm him down, but it was a useless endeavor.

Merlin just shook his head. He knew down to the very core of his magic that Arthur was in trouble. "It wasn't supposed to be him." Merlin muttered. Queen Risa had told him that it was _his_ life that was in danger. Had she lied or was she just wrong?

Merlin hadn't been particularly happy to hear that he could die soon from the mouth of someone who clearly has some sort of magical power, but the warlock would rather die a thousand times than for it to be Arthur that gets hurt. Merlin wanted to believe that Arthur was okay, that nothing was wrong, but his magic was telling him otherwise. He needed to find Arthur. He could never forgive himself if it was Arthur that got hurt or killed instead of him. He had no desire to die and the thought that he might had been plaguing him ever since that first night, but right now he was not afraid of it at all. There was only enough room in his heart and mind to be afraid for one person's life…Arthur's.

Merlin walked as quickly as he could, just barely managing to keep himself from running, through the various castle hallways as he followed his magic's lead and all while Gwaine tried to get his attention and make him say what was so wrong.

Merlin didn't listen to Gwaine as he kept walking down the invisible path that his magic had laid out for him. Suddenly they emerged onto a large hallway and at the end of it Merlin could just barely glimpse two figures. For two whole seconds Merlin's heart stopped, but then it sped up again, faster than ever. He ran towards the figures, his magic screaming and urging him on. Within seconds the two people became clearly visible and Merlin felt his blood boil as he realized that Prince Eric was kneeling over Arthur with his shirt gripped in his hand. Merlin was still too far away and he watched helplessly as Eric, still completely oblivious to his presence punched Arthur viciously. "Hey!" Merlin yelled.

Merlin saw Eric look up in confusion and then as he recognized him in sadistic pleasure. A memory flashed across Merlin's mind like a white hot tongue of fire. Merlin had seen that kind of look before and he knew what it meant. His previous roiling anger spiked and took over his mind and abruptly Merlin no longer saw anything other than the cruel monster before him. Without officially telling it to his magic roared and in a burst of speed Merlin crashed into Eric, bowling him over and knocking him to the ground and away from Arthur.

Briefly Merlin realized that this was exactly what he had done when the giant spider had attacked Arthur. Apparently he liked to use his whole body as a weapon. It was at that moment that Merlin registered what Arthur had shouted at him. If Arthur thought that he was going to leave him while he was being assaulted by a lunatic then he was the one who was crazy.

But anymore thoughts about that would have to wait because Eric had recovered quickly and had just pushed Merlin off of him violently, punching him in the gut as he did so. Merlin's breath hitched in pain and for a moment he was too winded to move. But as he looked up he saw Eric standing and making to move toward an Arthur that still looked pretty hurt and he found the strength he needed. "No!" Merlin shouted and grabbed Eric, being still on the ground the only he could reach was his legs, and pulled him down to the floor. Before Eric practically fell on top of him Merlin saw Gwaine reach Arthur and pull him to his feet.

"We have to get out of here!" Gwaine yelled.

"Oh, no you don't!" Eric growled and Merlin heard him fumble for something and the warlock tried to push him off of him but the large man wouldn't budge. Merlin's eyes found Arthur's momentarily and then he heard the sound of metal hitting the stone floor and then suddenly all the air was driven out of him as he felt a sharp, biting pain in his side.

* * *

><p>"Help Merlin," Arthur croaked as Gwaine helped him up. His face and his throat felt bruised and like they had been smashed or crushed. He still couldn't seem to get enough air and he felt very disoriented. Nonetheless, however, he tried his best to focus on what was happening to his servant and what little his eyes, which weren't properly obeying his commands, could see made him angry and worried. Eric had Merlin pinned to the ground.<p>

But Arthur's worry dissipated as he saw Gwaine pull Eric off of Merlin and deliver two good punches to his face and then toss him to the side. He then grabbed Merlin and helped him up. "He need to leave, now!" Gwaine said.

"Guards! Guards!" Eric cried, startling them all. He sent them a cruel look. "You won't get out of this palace alive. So run, run! It won't make any difference."

They all heard and turned their heads towards the sounds of loud footsteps approaching them rapidly. Arthur sent Gwaine a look and the man nodded. "Run!" he shouted. He seized Merlin's hand, though when exactly the boy had appeared by his side Arthur had no idea, and together they ran down the passageways and through corridors, all the while hearing yelling and heavy footsteps behind them.

"Those men assaulted the prince, get them!" Arthur heard Eric cry, but he couldn't spare more than a scowl at the words.

The sound of his heart beating furiously and his own ragged breathing filled his ears and Arthur realized that he wasn't sure how much his abused lungs could take. He could feel Merlin lagging behind him and Arthur's hand was beginning to lose its grip on his. "Hold on, Merlin," Arthur rasped. He could see Gwaine just a little ahead of him and he watched as the man came to a stop in front of the very same large doors through which they had entered this castle in the first place.

"Hurry!" Gwaine called as he himself dashed through the doors.

Arthur glanced behind him and saw to his dismay that the guards were getting closer. With an extra burst of speed that made his lungs burn in protest Arthur ran through the doors and out into the raining dawn of the fourth day, practically dragging Merlin with him.

Arthur felt the rain beat on his back and head, but not as hard as before. Clearly this cycle of the rain was coming to an end. But Arthur realized too late that this castle was on a mountain and in the murky light before the dawn and with the heavy downpour of rain he could hardly see two feet in front of him. As a result he slipped in some mud and began tumbling down the steep hill, his hand being wrenched from Merlin's in the process.

Pain shot through Arthur as he slipped and slid so quickly down the embankment that no matter how hard he tried he couldn't slow his descent. His arms and back began to go numb as they kept on slamming against one hard rock after another and branches and twigs poked and whipped past and ensured they left a mark.

Finally the hill leveled off completely and Arthur came to a stop. For a moment he just lay there, almost every bone in his body aching from the rough treatment.

"Arthur," he heard Gwaine call. The prince looked up and saw the man struggle to his feet. Apparently he'd had the same ride down that Arthur had. "We have to keep going," Gwaine said, it sounded like he was in a lot of pain, too, but Arthur couldn't tell because the rain was interfering with his vision. "Where's Merlin?"

Arthur looked over to his right as he began to get to his feet and saw that Merlin was attempting to do the same thing, only he was having a much harder time of it. Arthur snatched a fistful of the boy's now very wet and muddy shirt and yanked him upright. Once again grasping Merlin's hand Arthur took off running.

He wasn't sure how long they continued like that. Truth be told when running from soldiers and guards it was hard to run far enough, Arthur should know. In the pouring rain it would be harder for Eric's men to find them, but not impossible, especially if they stopped like Arthur's aching back and throat and legs and head and pretty much everything else wanted him to. He felt bruised all over and the damage the strangling had done to his throat made him even more exhausted because it was harder to get air.

Eventually, though, panting, sweating, and sore to the bone they stopped in a particularly thick part of the forest. Trees surrounded them on every side and those men would have trouble finding them even on a clear day. Arthur glanced up at the sky. It was nearly dawn and the rain had slowed to a calm drizzle.

"Let's…rest here," Arthur said, sucking in large gulps of air. "Do we have any provisions?" he asked Gwaine as he bent his knees, trying to relieve their cramping.

"I have a few things, but not much," Gwaine answered, also breathing heavily.

"Merlin?" Arthur inquired and slowly turned around to look at his friend. "Do you have any…" Arthur trailed off as he caught sight of Merlin standing a little ways behind him. He was bent over slightly and he seemed far too still for someone who had just been running as fast as he could go. "Merlin?"

The boy looked up and his face was scrunched in pain. "Arthur?" he said almost questioningly as if not sure. "She was right."

"What?" Arthur demanded, fear coloring his tone. He didn't like how pale Merlin was looking or how strange he was acting, and yet he was afraid to take even a step forward in case that somehow caused everything to go to hell. "Who was right? Right about what?" he asked, afraid of the answer.

Merlin began to wobble where he stood. "This can't be how it ends," Merlin said almost too faintly to hear.

"Merlin!" Arthur cried as suddenly Merlin's legs gave way entirely and he lunged forward, just barely managing to catch his friend before he hit the ground.

It was then that Arthur realized that Merlin was clutching his side. Terrified of what he might see but also desperate to know Arthur roughly pulled Merlin's hands away and gasped in pure dread at what he saw.

Spreading far too quickly for Arthur's liking, a large red stain was soaking the fabric of Merlin's clothes. Arthur's hands fumbled as he dragged back the cloth to see what lay underneath. The sight that the prince saw was something that he had never even imagined he'd see in Merlin's body.

* * *

><p>Back at the castle Prince Eric got to his feet, rubbing his bruised jaw lightly. There was no doubt in his mind that his men would recover the Pendragon and his friends, it was only a matter of time. Nonetheless, Eric was still angry that they had escaped at all. He'd have to make sure the three of them paid dearly for that later.<p>

Something caught his heartless eyes and he bent down to pick up his favorite knife. The knife that he had taken from the dead body of his first kill. The prince chuckled as he ran his finger along the blade like he so loved to do and it came away bloody. Eric threw his head back and laughed loudly.

No, only two of them would capable of paying for his anger. The third, the little, scrawny, insignificant, but oh-so-loyal one would not be making it back alive. Most likely he was already dead.

* * *

><p>Yeah, so, I know it feels short after the last couple of chatpers I've posted, but like I said, I really wanted to post something today. Anywho, I already have a fair chunk of the next chappy written and I hope that the drive to write that I've been having lately continues. I guess it helps to not have easy acess to to the internet. Please review and tell me what you think of Eric.<p> 


	17. True Friend

Some parts of this chapter was harder to write than I thought they would be. Oh well, I managed to write them regardless. I apologize, but I seriously didn't want to read this over and look for mistakes and typos and such. I know I should and I'll admit that it's a point of pride with me to pre-read every chapter, but I just don't want to. Yeah, I'm being lazy, I know. Still, I'm sure you guys can kinda decipher what I'm meaning to write. Oh, and by the way, thank you all so much for some of the kind reviews I've gotten, especially for the last chapter. You guys are great. And girls. (:

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><p>He had tried. He had tried to stop the bleeding, but the spell he had quickly gasped out as he was running had faded away by now. The pain was intense, but not nearly as bad as the thought that he was leaving Arthur. This had to be what Queen Risa had warned him about. The fatal danger. In some ways, though, he was just glad that it was him and not Arthur that was dying. The prince had already come too close to death too many times on this trip.<p>

He was now staring up at Arthur, though exactly how he had ended up on the ground and in the prince's arms Merlin wasn't sure. The sky above his friend was beginning to dim and everything was starting to be difficult to make out. He could _just_ see Gwaine's concerned face before it faded away. The pain spiked, he could feel his life's blood draining away. His magic, previously so eager to rise up, had now settled down so far that Merlin wasn't sure if he had the strength to reach it.

Merlin's eyes flitted back to Arthur's. the blackness was closing in on him. "Arthur…I'm sorry," he rasped quietly. He didn't want to leave his friend, but maybe this was for the best. Maybe he had served and protected Arthur as much as he needed and it was time for him to get out of the way now.

A ripple of pain flowed through him and he felt his back arch. His eyes rolled in their sockets and caught a glimpse of something faint in the distance over Arthur's shoulder.

The last thing Merlin saw before his eyes close and he begun to spiral down towards death was a figure. A figure that looked like something between a man and a horse.

* * *

><p>"Arthur…I'm sorry."<p>

"Merlin? Merlin?" Arthur cried frantically. Merlin had closed his eyes and Arthur couldn't get them to open again. The boy's chest was only just rising and falling.

As soon as he had gotten over the worst of the initial shock of seeing Merlin's grievous wound he had begun applying pressure to it and now, in the hopes that it would somehow make him wake up, Arthur started pushing down on the gaping knife hole harder.

"Merlin? Wake up! That's an order!" Arthur cradled the boy's head in his hand and with his other began shaking him. "You're my servant and for once in your life do as you are told!" Arthur became dimly aware of a hand on his shoulder.

"Arthur…I've seen wounds like that before," Gwaine said and it sounded like the care-free wanderer was just barely holding himself together. "Arthur he won't—" Gwaine trailed off, unable to finish what he had been saying.

Arthur just refused to listen to him. "Merlin, you bumbling, useless, ridiculous idiot don't give up! Do you hear me? Merlin!" Arthur screamed. He was hardly aware of anything anymore except for the increasing ashy-greyness of Merlin's face. He started shaking his dying friend even harder. Tears were leaking out of his eyes now, or maybe it was just the rain. Arthur wasn't sure and he honestly didn't care right now.

"Merlin," he pleaded. "please…please don't. You're the first real friend I've ever had. You're always there for me when I need you most. Well, I need you right now." He was definitely sobbing now. "Besides, are you really going to miss out on the opportunity to continue annoying me for the rest of my life? I'm sorry I snapped at you before. Truth is, you're the best friend I could ever imagine having. And I swear I'll never throw another goblet at your head again if you just…come back." Emotional pain made Arthur's throat catch for a moment. "Merlin!" he cried.

This couldn't be happening. Not now, not ever. They had just saved him and he was dying again. And this time there was nothing, no magic, no healers, nothing repair a wound that Arthur knew full well couldn't be fixed. How had this happened? Why hadn't Merlin said something sooner? Why hadn't it been him? He was the one whose own blood had gotten them into this. Eric had wanted _him._

But now, because of who he was Merlin was dying and Arthur couldn't save him.

"You can still save him." Arthur's head snapped up and he found himself looking at a strange man kneeling beside him. The man had odd, fiery red hair and disheveled beard. His eyes were a dark blue, almost black and he was big and muscular. But Arthur didn't care about any of that.

"What do you mean?" he asked, his voice nearly breaking.

"You can still save him," the stranger repeated, "but you have to be quick."

"I don't understand; do you have magic?"

The stranger shook his head. "No, I can't heal him, but there are creatures, not far from here, that can. Stop when you come to a circle of trees." He point towards the thick forest ahead of them. "Go find them and ask them to save your friend. It's Merlin's only chance."

"But what if—" Arthur began to ask but the stranger pushed him away from Merlin and began holding him instead.

"Go! He doesn't have much time. Hurry!"

Arthur took one look at Merlin's pale face and then turned around and ran. Arthur dashed through the trees. He didn't know if this man was telling the truth or not or what his motivations were. If there was even the slightest chance of saving Merlin then he was going to cling for it. He didn't care if he had to use magic; he'd already done that once before. In fact, he didn't care what it took, whatever the price he was willing to save Merlin. And so Arthur rushed on, the tiny spark of hope in his chest spurring him on.

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><p>He almost missed it. Arthur had been running so long and so fast with a mantra of:<em> don't die, don't die, don't die<em> looping through his head that he nearly ran past it. But, luckily for Merlin, he didn't.

Arthur came to a quick stop as he realized where he was. He was standing in the exact center of a perfectly circular ring of trees. Each tree was tall with thin, slender, pale trunks. All except one. Directly in front of Arthur was a tree with a huge, dark, trunk and it seemed to be three times the size of the others surrounding it.

"Hello?" Arthur called, his voice cracking in desperation, "Please, can someone help me?" Arthur spun left and right looking for any sign of what he came for. "My friend is…" the prince trailed off as out of the corner of his eye he saw a ghostly figure emerge from the massive tree.

Slowly he turned and stared dead on at a shimmering, blue, rippling image of a woman. Arthur didn't believe in ghosts, but at this moment he honestly couldn't think of a better way to describe this incorporeal figure before him. Arthur could still see the tree behind her.

"Why are you here, mortal one?" the woman asked in a voice that sounded like a thousand echoes. Her form seemed to ripple even more heavily when she talked.

"My-my friend," Arthur stuttered, he wasn't used to talking to women that were blue and see-through, "is dying. I need your help. Please, save him."

Abruptly another figure materialized out of the exact same tree, only this time it was a man and he looked furious.

"Why should we help you at all?!" he asked in anger and indignation.

"Because he's my friend!" Arthur answered, practically pleading. He couldn't understand why anyone wouldn't want to help Merlin. Then again, he couldn't understand why anyone would want to hurt him, either, but plenty of people and creatures had done that.

"We know your history," the woman said much more calmly and she sent a reproachful glance towards the man. "You're Arthur Pendragon, known for not having any close friends and treating servants as if they're more worthless than slaves. Why should we really believe that this 'friend' of yours actually matters to you?"

Arthur opened his mouth to answer but not a convincing word popped into his mind. The prince ducked his head in shame. Not only had his parentage gotten Merlin fatally injured, but now also his own pride and prattishness was going to keep him from being healed.

And she was right. He knew that he didn't treat Merlin the way a good friend would. So many times Arthur had wanted to give him a compliment rather than hurl an insult at him, but for some reason he hadn't. It was just so much easier to keep things the way they were, despite being dysfunctional. And he had gotten so close, so close to having the kind of friendship with Merlin that he had always wanted, but the boy's lie to him had pulled him up short. By maybe that was why he had lied. Because Arthur wasn't the friend to him that he should be. But that remorse was too little too late now. Merlin was going to die. These people weren't going to help him. Arthur would travel back to Camelot alone.

_No._ Arthur lifted his head up defiantly. He wasn't going to give up that easily.

"I don't care what you think of me or of my friendships. The truth is that Merlin is a great man, who has more goodness in him than anyone I know, and he doesn't deserve to die, especially because of me. I came here ready to plead for his life. Maybe I don't treat him how I should, I know I need to work on that, but he is my best friend and I can't lose him. People can change and if anyone has a chance of changing me into a good friend and great ruler then it's Merlin. Please, I'm begging you…save him."

The shimmery man and woman shared a look with each other. The man silently shook his head.

She turned back to him. Her voice seemed colder than before. "You seem sincere, but you could be lying. We won't save someone so that you can continue treating him like dirt. We need to be sure." Both she and the man extended their hands towards him and Arthur suddenly felt very dizzy and his vision began to blur like before.

"What?" Arthur asked in confusion before the two ghostly people faded out of sight and blackness descended on him.

* * *

><p>Arthur's eyes opened and he groaned. For a moment he thought he was lying on something soft, but then he discovered that it wasn't soft at all, but hard. Abruptly the prince of Camelot realized that he was lying on the floor of his own room.<p>

Grunting, Arthur picked himself off the ground and dusted himself off, which was hard because it was obvious that the floor hadn't been cleaned in several days. "Merlin!" Arthur growled in annoyance. Where was that idiot?

At the thought of Merlin a sudden wave of sadness rippled through him and he felt like wherever he was he wasn't alright. But just as quickly as the girl-like grief had appeared it vanished. Of course Merlin was alright. Why wouldn't he be? Merlin was always fine, if a bit clumsy, forgetful, and all-around ridiculous.

Arthur tried to think back. How had he ended up unconscious on the floor? Was he sick? Did Merlin do something stupid again? What had been doing before waking up? A flash of images flooded his mind. A dense forest. A livid face. A ring of trees. A silver knife. Blood.

Arthur shook his head, trying to dislodge the thoughts. Were they from a dream? Arthur looked around and once again realized that he was on the wood ground, only this time on his knees. "What's going on?" Arthur asked aloud. He wasn't used to any of this, except for Merlin forgetting his chores. The worthless servant was always doing that.

Once more Arthur got to his feet, but he nearly jumped out of his skin in surprise when he heard an urgent knocking on his door. Composing himself, Arthur called, "Come in."

A soldier entered the room. "Sire, your father is requiring your immediate presence in his chambers."

Arthur nodded and then left to find his father. No, he wouldn't tell Uther about his strange dream or his odd blackout. No need to tell him.

Arthur entered his father's room, wondering what was so pressing, but the sight that met him answered that question for him. The first thing that he saw, something that wrenched his heart horribly, was his father sprawled on the ground and lying in a pool of his own blood.

Arthur blinked. This was all still a dream; it had to be. He father wasn't dead; he couldn't be. He kept staring at the body in the hopes that it would just melt away and he would wake up.

"Arthur I—"

Arthur lifted his gaze to meet the eyes of the one talking. It was Merlin. The boy had his back to the wall and was crouched slightly as if getting ready to either run or fight. But the thing that baffled Arthur, the thing that he couldn't comprehend no matter how hard he tried, was the blood that covered Merlin's hands and clothes. Fresh blood.

"Merlin…what—" Arthur wasn't even sure what he was trying to ask. He glanced down at his father again. Tears sprang to his eyes but he did nothing to stop them. He bent down, meaning to touch his father in the hopes that maybe he wasn't dead, just unconscious, but he stopped as he saw something silver flash on the edge of his vision. Reminded of the short blade that he had seen in his dream or whatever that was, anger rose up in Arthur and he straightened up and spun around only to be greeted by another strange sight. Leon was there, across from Merlin, brandishing a sword that was pointed directly at the servant, hence the wary look in the boy's eyes.

"Leon, what are you—" Arthur began to ask but the knight cut him off.

"Careful, sire, he's dangerous."

"Who? What are you doing?" Arthur glanced at Merlin and read the clear fear and apprehension on his face. "Leon, lower your sword. What ha-happened to my father? What's going on?"

"Your father was murdered," Leon answered, his tone cold and harsh, "by this man here." He gesture roughly towards Merlin with his sword. "I came in too late to save him."

"No, Arthur! don't listen to him!" Merlin cried, extending one hand towards him and pleading. "I would never hurt Uther, you know that. That's not Leon!" Merlin pointed at the knight and gave him an accusing glare. "He did this."

Arthur couldn't believe what he was hearing.

"Sire, don't believe a word he says," Leon said, advancing a little on Merlin who tried to back up even further but couldn't. "I saw it with my own eyes. He has magic and he has been lying to you from the very beginning. He killed your father because he had found out the truth about him." Leon had reached Merlin now and the tip of his sword was pushing against his chest. "You will pay for what you have done, sorcerer."

Arthur's gaze snapped back and forth between Merlin and Leon. This just had to be a dream. Merlin could never have murdered his father—even the idea that he could overpower him was preposterous—but why would Leon lie about this? Leon was his most trusted knight and had never once let him down. Arthur almost considered him a friend. Merlin couldn't have magic and yet Leon had seen him use it.

Arthur's eyes drifted to the blood covering Merlin's hands. Leon wouldn't lie. There was no one Arthur trusted more. If Leon had seen it…

Arthur's train of thought was interrupted by a pained groan coming from Merlin and the unmistakable sound of a blade piercing flesh. Arthur looked up and saw Leon pushing the tip of his sword into Merlin's chest just enough to break the skin and to hurt.

"Arthur please," Merlin begged, tears in his eyes, "trust me. I don't have magic and even if I did I would never do something like this." His voice hitched as the sword twisted a little and cut ever-so-slightly deeper. "I told you once that I was happy to be your servant 'til the day I die. Do you honestly believe that I would kill your father, knowing full-well how this would hurt you? Please…trust…me." Merlin cried out in pain as Leon quickly pulled his sword away from him only to bring down the hilt hard into his stomach and the servant doubled over.

"Sire," Leon began but Arthur didn't hear it.

There was no way that the kind and wise and easy-going Leon that Arthur knew and respected would knowingly hurt Merlin like that. Of course Merlin didn't have magic. Merlin had more goodness, kindness and overall respect for all life than Arthur had ever seen in anyone else. Even if he was highly skilled with a sword and had been trained as a knight there was no way that Merlin would kill unless he absolutely had to. His compassionate heart would never let him.

"Leon…get away from Merlin," Arthur ordered sternly, his hand already going to his hilt.

"Your highness, no! You can't actually be falling for his tricks and lies—"

"Shut up, Leon, or whatever you are," Arthur snapped and drew his sword. "Move away from Merlin or I swear I'll run you through."

The earnest and shocked look on Leon's face melted away to be replaced with a mocking smile. "I guess I can't fool the ever-observant Arthur," he said and suddenly he began to shimmer and morph until it wasn't Leon that was standing there, but rather a large, muscular man with messy black hair and a smile that was missing teeth. He was wearing dirty, tattered clothes, but on the shirt was a crest that Arthur had never seen before.

"You killed my father, didn't you?" Arthur asked in one part disgust and three parts anger.

The big man nodded. "I was lucky to be chosen for the honor of ending the scourge that has been allowed to curse this land for over twenty years. Even if today is my last day, I'll die happy knowing that I stopped this murderer."

Arthur felt his grief and confusion turn into intense rage and he realized that he was shaking from the force of it. This man right here had killed his father in cold blood and seemed to have gotten off on it. Not only that but he had tried to get him to turn against Merlin, the only person he really had left without his father and who was practically his brother in his heart, and had hurt him. If it was the last thing he ever did he was going to kill this bastard.

Shouting in anger Arthur lunged at his enemy. The man brought his own blade up in a reflex, but Arthur just swung again. This time, however, the man blocked the blow with a whispered spell that stopped the sword's descent. Before Arthur could react to this new development his father's killer muttered another spell and suddenly the prince found himself flung backwards. He hit the wall hard and slid to the ground, momentarily dazed.

When Arthur regained his senses he discovered it was too late as he looked up to see the sorcerer towering over him. "Two Pendragons in one day. The gods must be blessing me," he said, smirking. He raised his hand. "Get prepared to see dear old Uther again."

Arthur closed his eyes. This was it. He had no idea how it had come to this, but he was going to die and take the Pendragon line with him. He hoped that Camelot would find some way to go on. With any luck maybe Merlin would escape, he was usually pretty good at evading harm. His eyes flew open. Merlin.

The sorcerer was murmuring, no doubt a spell to cause his death, but because he was facing Arthur and not the rest of the room he didn't ever see it coming.

Arthur watched, stunned as the tall, lanky person behind the man thrust something into his chest. The sorcerer's eyes bulged, his breath hitched, and his hand fell as he looked down in shock at the tip of a sword poking through his stomach. A gurgling sound came from his throat and then he fell sideways, revealing his killer.

Merlin stood there, staring in stunned silence at the bloody sword that he clutched in his hands.

"Merlin?" Arthur asked quietly, wondering if the boy could even hear him.

The servant's gaze snapped to his and the confusion and horror melted from his eyes. Swiftly Merlin dropped the sword and knelt by the prince's side. "Arthur, are you alright?"

"Yeah, Merlin, I'm fine," he answered. "What about you? I'm sorry I didn't stop him from hurting you." Arthur wasn't really sure what he was saying. He was still in shock over all of this.

Merlin shook his head, dismissing his concern. "Don't worry about me, Arthur."

Irritation sparked in Arthur. Don't worry? How could he not worry about his bumbling manservant, who was too kind and loving for his own good and stupid and yet wise at the strangest of times? Who could hardly swing a blade and yet had just killed a sorcerer who had been about to end Arthur's life.

It was Arthur's doubt in Merlin that had gotten him hurt and had probably caused the boy to have to kill in the first place, which, judging by the slightly haunted and disgusted look in his eyes, was greatly bothering him.

In a surge of impulsiveness, concern, and irritation, Arthur reached forward and pulled up Merlin's shirt to inspect the damage. It was a lot worse than he was expecting.

There were two very small cuts that had to have been made by the sword tip digging into his flesh, though Arthur didn't remember the sorcerer preforming that nasty move twice, and they were bleeding a little. They looked painful, but not serious. But what really caught Arthur off guard were the quickly forming black and blue bruises that were covering almost every inch of Merlin's torso. They all looked to have been made by a sword hilt, which was definitely more painful than a fist to get hit by.

There was no way that that man could have done all this, not while Arthur had been there. Arthur would never have let a beating like this happen. The prince's mind flashed back to when he had first entered the room and had seen Merlin backed up against the wall with a fearful expression on his face and a defensive stance in his limbs.

Arthur cursed mentally. Merlin must have somehow walked in on the bastard murdering his father and had probably tried to stop him, hence the blood on him, but had only received a vicious beating for his trouble.

Arthur looked up at the servant who was wearing a very guarded expression. "Merlin I—" Suddenly a huge sound like an explosion shattered the air and the ground beneath Arthur's feet shook violently and he was thrown back a little.

"What—" another explosion and resulting earthquake. "What is that?" Arthur struggled to his feet and made his way to a window.

"Before you came in here," Merlin said, "he was saying something about an army of sorcerers." Merlin nodded towards the dead assassin.

Arthur reached the window and gasped slightly as he saw fires burning throughout the citadel. He looked over at Merlin in horror. "An army of sorcerers?" How were the knights supposed to take this on? They hadn't had any warning and with enemy soldiers with powers like this they would surely be outmatched in several ways.

"Arthur!" Merlin's voice was very serious. "You have to command your men. You're the king now and it's up to you to lead Camelot through this as best you can."

Merlin words hit Arthur like a huge stone. He was king. This was his time. Panic and fear bubbled up inside of him. He wasn't ready for this. He had no idea how to be king; he'd always assumed that his father would be there to guide him through the first year or so. But as things were he didn't know what to do or how to lead his men to an almost certain death at the hands of an army of powerful sorcerers. He couldn't, he didn't know how….

Unwillingly Arthur's gaze traveled to Merlin's and his panicked thoughts cut off and his racing heartbeat slowed. In those blue, twinkling eyes there was so much trust, so much hope and belief and confidence. Merlin wasn't afraid. Merlin wasn't worrying because he believed in his master completely. Arthur had never had someone look at him with that much hope and faith before.

Merlin trusted him. Something in Arthur clicked and suddenly he wasn't afraid anymore. He knew what he had to do. Camelot would not fall today. "You're right, Merlin," Arthur said, though the words felt a little odd coming out. The alarm bells were already sounding, and it was a testament to how lost in his own thoughts Arthur had been that he hadn't noticed them before.

Another explosion rocked the castle and Arthur had to brace himself against the wall to remain upright. "Merlin! Go and help Gaius and Gwen set up the infirmary and while you're at it make sure to tell the guards and anyone else available to start evacuating as many people from unprotected areas to the castle," Arthur ordered.

Merlin nodded and turned around sharply and hurried to leave the room with Arthur following him. The prince stopped; however, when he came to Uther's body and subsequently Merlin turned back to see what he was doing.

Arthur knelt down next to all that was left of the once high and mighty Uther Pendragon. "I won't let you down, father," Arthur whispered. "Camelot will be safe. I'll try to take care of them just as well as you did." With that Arthur gently closed his eyes and then quickly straightened up. Merlin gave him a sad, but comforting look and then dashed through the big wooden doors.

Arthur chased after him. "Wait, Merlin!"

The manservant came to a swift halt and turned back towards his master. "Arthur?"

An image of the heavy and painful bruising on Merlin's chest and stomach popped into Arthur's mind. "I'm sorry…that it took me so long to trust you. I should never have doubted your loyalty."

Merlin face spread into a kind and warming smile. "I will never give you any reason to ever again." His expression abruptly turned sad. "I'm just sorry that I didn't get there soon enough to save him."

Arthur choked on the grief in his throat. After a moment he murmured, "You saved my life and you tried to save his. That's more than I could ever ask of you." Another deafening explosion vibrated the stones beneath their feet. "Go!" Arthur shouted, the pressing danger of the situation becoming apparent to him once again.

* * *

><p>After stumbling a couple of times because of the shaking ground Arthur finally made it to the courtyard where already dozens and dozens of knights where saddling up. "Arthur!" The prince in question nearly jumped in surprise and looked over at the person who had called him. It was Leon.<p>

Arthur couldn't help the surge of anger and loathing that simmered to life inside of him. His hand tightened on the grip of his sword.

The knight came over to him. "Arthur, where have you been? We've sent guards looking for you and your father. Sorcerers are attacking the city."

Arthur took a deep breath and forced himself to remember that this wasn't the man that had murdered his father and had beaten Merlin. This was Leon, and old ally and friend and someone whose opinion he respected greatly. The sorcerer had just been impersonating him. "I know, Sir Leon. We must ride out to defend Camelot immediately."

Leon nodded his head in obedience. "Of course, sire. I'll just send some knights to guard your father and then we can be on our way."

Arthur grabbed his arm to stop him. "No, Leon. There is no point. My father is dead."

The knight gasped and seemed to take a step back. "What?" he asked in shock.

Arthur flexed his other hand, which was still gripping his sword, and tried to quell the grief and the rage that was threatening to break loose inside of him. Now was not the time. Arthur tightened his jaw and pushed past his emotions. "That is a tale for later. Right now what matters is the living."

Leon recovered from the worst of the shock and sadness and nodded his head sharply once more. "Of course, sire."

Arthur made to climb on a horse but Leon stopped him. "Arthur," he gave him a grave look, "you can't. You're the king now and you have to stay safe here in the castle. Your people need you to survive."

Arthur was about to argue and say that there was no way that he was just going to let his men ride out to almost certain death without him, but then he remembered the hope in Merlin's eyes. Leon was right. He wasn't really a prince anymore. He had to do what was right for his people and not just himself. Besides, someone was needed to command the people and guards here. In the past that had always been his father's job while he went out and faced the enemy dead on. But now Arthur had a much more important responsibility.

Arthur shared a meaningful look with Leon. "Good luck." And as Arthur stood on the top of the castle steps and watched as his men rode away and left without him he felt like a part of him was missing.

The crowned prince but basically king rushed quickly through his castle, shouting order to people as he went. He had been training for this moment his whole life and he wasn't going to fail his people or his father.

On an impulse, Arthur decided to make a quick stop at the infirmary that Gaius was already running to see how things were working, of course. The decision had nothing to do with the anxious pit in his gut that always had to do with Merlin.

"Gaius!" he called and the old man straightened up from where he was tending a wounded patient and looked over at him. "Do you need anything or more helpers?"

The physician strode over to him and shook his head. "I have everything I need, except it would be helpful to have Merlin here. He knows a lot more medicine than he wishes me to believe."

Arthur felt his stomach twist unpleasantly. "He's—" another roaring collision with a magic ball of fire, "he's supposed to be with you," Arthur yelled over the noise.

Gaius glanced around as if expecting to see his ward. "I haven't see him, sire, since before the attack began."

Arthur suddenly felt nauseous. That boy better not have gotten himself into trouble again.

Just then a piercing pain rocked through his head and Arthur groaned and doubled over, holding his head in his hands. He felt a hand on his shoulder. "Arthur. Arthur, are you alright?"

But he barely heard Gaius' words and as a painful voice cut through the thoughts in his head.

_If you wish for your servant to live then come to the Throne Room now. If not, then continue defending your people as I kill him slowly._

Arthur gasped as the pain disappeared along with the voice and he became aware of everything around him once more. _As we kill him slowly._ Whoever the owner of that voice was had Merlin. Merlin was in danger.

Straightening up, Arthur bolted out of the infirmary and towards the Throne Room. He had just lost his father and he wasn't about to lose Merlin, too, if he could help it.

* * *

><p>Arthur pushed open the heavy doors to the Throne Room and and came to a halting stop, still panting from his run, at the very sight he had been afraid of. Emerging from behind the throne was Merlin, being urged along by someone who was holding a knife to his throat. The man's face was visible and Arthur was vaguely surprised to realize that he looked almost exactly like the sorcerer that had murdered his father, the exception being his teeth. They were all intact.<p>

"Merlin?" Arthur asked slowly in an attempt to determine if his friend was alright.

Merlin, understanding his query, carefully nodded his head as much as the blade would allow. The servant's eyes were warning him to get away but Arthur decided that it was time Merlin knew what it felt like to have his orders ignored. Arthur wasn't leaving. He was staying right here. He understood now were his place was. It wasn't with his men defending Camelot, and it wasn't on that cold and emotionless throne. This is where he belonged; with Merlin facing whatever either of them came up against because if he couldn't even protect his friends then how was he supposed to save his people?

"Let Merlin go," Arthur said in a low and commanding voice. "You called me and here I am." Arthur raised his arms as if to prove that he really was here.

"I can't do that," the man said as he shook his head jerkily. His right eye was blinking oddly and his facial muscles were twitching uncontrollably. He looked sick."I never really cared about this revolutionary attack to begin with. I just became a part of it because my brother wanted me to. He said that we could be free, unafraid if we won and became free of the Pendragon plague." The man's face and eyes hardened and he pushed the blade harder against Merlin's neck. "But you killed him. And now none of this matters."

Arthur held up his hands placatingly. "Your problem is with me, not Merlin. Let him go. You're right; I was the one who killed your brother."

Merlin's eyes widened as he realized what his master was doing. They both knew that it was really Merlin that had ended that man's life, though, not through lack of trying on Arthur's part. "No, Arthur!" Merlin yelled, struggling and causing the knife to cut slightly into his skin, but the boy didn't seem to notice. "Don't do this!" Merlin awkwardly tried to twist his head to look at his captor. "I already told you, it wasn't Arthur. I'm the one who killed your brother. Not him."

"Silence!" The man yelled as his face gave a particularly violent twitch. He mumbled a spell that Arthur couldn't make out and suddenly Merlin was crying out in pain.

"Stop it!" Arthur shouted, horrified. The second the sorcerer looked away from Merlin the spell seemed to stop as the manservant quieted and the pain disappeared from his eyes. "What did you do to him?" Arthur asked. He was way out of his depth with magic and he honestly had no idea what that even was. When, not if, he got Merlin out of here and to Gaius he might need to know whatever it was had been done to him.

The man shook his head slightly. "Just a simple pain spell. My brother taught me it. He said that some people deserve to suffer before they die. In this case it seems I was hurting both of you with just a few words. Who would have thought that the prince of Camelot, known for being just as bad as his father, would care about a simple servant? I knew I was right in using him to get to you." He turned his attention towards Merlin. He dug the blade deeper into his neck, causing the boy to inhale sharply and for his body to stiffen.

Arthur's own hands were clenched so tight that they were going numb. He was tired of people going after and hurting Merlin. Even though something like this didn't seem to happen too often the prince got the distinct feeling that Merlin had been getting hurt a lot lately, despite the fact that he couldn't place his finger on it.

He was trying, trying to be calm and rational because this person could end Merlin's life with a single, swift movement, and if Arthur made even the smallest mistake it could be all over in a moment. So Arthur had to be calm. Merlin had saved his life today and now it was time to return the favor. But it was hard to keep his cool when there was nothing he wanted to do more than wring the neck of this twitchy, obviously-not-all-that-stable man.

"And I know you didn't kill him, Merlin," the sorcerer said and continued in a mocking tone, "my brother was strong, skilled with a blade and adept at magic. I bet you can hardly lift a sword and all it takes is one look at you to realize that you're just as magic-less as these Pendragons."

For some reason Arthur felt his stomach plummet at that, though why he would care that Merlin didn't have magic was beyond him.

The sorcerer moved the knife away from Merlin, but still kept a firm grip on him with his other hand. "But you, Arthur," he pointed the dagger at him, "you will have to make a choice. In magic there must always be a balance. You took my brother away from me," a vein throbbed in his head, "and so now a life must be taken in return."

Oh, Arthur didn't like the sound of that at all. "What do you mean?" Arthur asked warily. He didn't know how much longer he could just stand here chatting with this man. Until Merlin was safely away from all lunatics, murderers, sadistic monsters and anyone else that would want to hurt him Arthur wouldn't be able to think about anything but killing whoever was threatening his servant.

"Someone must die, Pendragon," the man answered, "and you get to choose who. We will see exactly what's in your heart." The man coughed and his face contorted in pain. "I don't care what happens to me as long as I get my revenge. So," he coughed more harshly, "time to choose. All it takes is one word from me to take whichever life you decide has to end. These are your options: I can kill your pathetic servant here and when that happens you'll be free to return to the battle going on out there, or I can kill you and let your servant live, but your people would be without their ruler and Camelot will probably fall. Choose."

Arthur's heart stopped. "_Camelot will be safe. I'll try to take care of them just as well as you did."_ That was the promise he had made to essentially the ghost of his father not even an hour ago. He had promised to make sure Camelot lived on. Camelot was his responsibility and he couldn't let it down. Without a ruler Camelot would fall, especially now that they were being attacked by an army of sorcerers.

He loved his people. He couldn't just sacrifice them all. His entire life he had been told that his first duty was to his people and that he had to serve them whole-heartedly. It wasn't even that he was that afraid to die. No, it was more like he had to do what was best for Camelot and that meant he had to be alive to get them through this war. His father was gone and he couldn't abandon his people.

But then he glanced at Merlin who was sending him a look that he didn't wish to decipher. For all his protests and dismissals and bluffs and lies that he didn't care about Merlin he really, honestly did. No amount of goblets thrown at his head or thinly veiled concern would change the fact that Merlin was a brother to him in so many ways. Merlin had changed him so much over the years.

That moment, so long ago it seemed now, when Merlin had begun choking and had collapsed, already beginning to die from a poison meant for the prattish prince he served, had been the first time that anyone had so blatantly given their life for him. Sure, many knights had pledged to serve him unconditionally and even die for him, no one had actually ever done it before. But if it hadn't been for Merlin, that stupid, bumbling idiot from a small town that had no common sense or respect for royalty, Arthur would have drunken that poison and would have most likely died. Or even if he hadn't, even if the knights had managed to find the antidote for him Arthur still would have had to have suffered great pain for days before receiving the cure. But, instead, Merlin had taken that all for him.

That was when he had truly realized the goodness and purity of the person who served him everyday. Every time that he heard of or saw Merlin go out of his way, even when he was clearly exhausted, to help someone who needed it or prevented some jerk from bullying another, regardless of the cost to himself, or had purposefully taken the blame for someone else's mistake Arthur had understood more and more that he wasn't nearly the future ruler he should be. If he had even half of Merlin's kindness and compassion for _everyone_ then he knew he'd make a great king. Arthur had begun to see life how Merlin saw it. To value people, not for their standing or wealth, but rather for their character. Merlin had turned him into a better person in so many ways, but even now, after already changing much, he still couldn't match Merlin's selflessness.

Merlin had taken a brutal flogging for him despite the fact that he feared it even more than most would. And Arthur had had no doubt that the boy would have given up his life for him. Didn't Merlin deserve the same in return?

"Arthur, don't." The prince gazed at Merlin, who was giving him a very emphatic look. "You can't, Camelot needs you. Your people need you. I'm no one, I'm nothing. My life means nothing next to yours. Your people are counting on you. You're all they have left."

Arthur stared at the sincerity in his eyes. Merlin was asking him to let him die, to basically kill him with absolutely no fear in his voice or on his face. Merlin wasn't scared. His words from earlier echoed in his mind. _"I told you once that I was happy to be your servant 'til the day I die."_ Merlin was actually begging him to kill him.

"Camelot is more important. It's okay." Merlin gave him a sad smile. "I'm just an idiotic servant."

Did Merlin really believe that _that_ was what he thought of him? Arthur felt sick. Never before had he actually considered that maybe Merlin believed all his stupid insults. Sure, Merlin could be pretty idiotic on occasions, but he was so much more than that. Merlin was his friend and his brother. He was the person who gave him just the right advice just when he needed it. He was the person who Arthur knew deep down respected him, not because of his title, but because of the choices he made and how he lived. He was the person who had more loyalty to him than even the most faithful knight. And he had more love and goodness inside his heart than anyone Arthur had ever met.

But most importantly, more than any of that. More than the selflessness or the goofiness or the carefree spirit that just couldn't be found anywhere else, Merlin was Arthur's best friend and the most important person in his life. It was as simple as that. Arthur would give his life for Merlin's in a heartbeat. In the face of death Arthur was always scared, but not now. Giving his life for Merlin's wouldn't make him afraid. Because, at this point, it was instinctual. There was nothing that made more sense to Arthur than that.

For a long time now Arthur had been unable to imagine dying any other way than at Merlin's side. The boy was a ridiculous idiot, but he was also the one person Arthur couldn't imagine a world without.

When he was with Merlin he felt so much stronger. He was the brother he'd never had and as much as Arthur loved Camelot and as much as he felt a need to stand ad fight for it, he knew what he had to do. In the end, there had never really been a choice. The thought of Camelot and all it's people falling was horrible beyond belief, but the thought of Merlin dying was unthinkable. Somehow Merlin had become a part of him and it was a part he couldn't bear to lose.

"Well, Arthur?" The sorcerer asked, grinning in triumph at what he was doing even as his face flinched involuntarily. "Choose."

Merlin gave Arthur a reassuring look. "It's okay. I don't matter."

Arthur's gaze snapped to Merlin's at that. His heart twisted. "I'm sorry Merlin that I ever made you believe that. You're wrong." Arthur turned to the sorcerer. "Me. I choose to die. Kill me."

Merlin's originally resigned face turned to shock and horror. "No, Arthur, no!"

The sorcerer nodded, pleased. "Last of the Pendragons." He let go of Merlin and pushed his roughly to the ground. "Say goodbye."

Arthur closed his eyes, and tried to drown out Merlin's scared and pleading shouts. He heard a whisper of something and then something sharp plunged into his stomach. Arthur felt pain the sensation of falling and then everything went black.

* * *

><p>Arthur woke up, gasping great lungfuls of air. This time he truly was lying on something soft. His hand closed around the moss-like grass and for a moment he just gazed at the green stuff, confused about pretty much everything. He had died, and yet he hadn't. How had he been in Camelot? How come the storm clouds had been completely gone? Why hadn't he remembered any of the events of the last two or so weeks? Where was he now? In the ring of trees? Or was this something else? Was none of that real?<p>

"Prince Arthur," a familiar echo-y voice said that startled Arthur so badly that he practically jumped to his feet. Standing, or floating, in front of him was the two ghost people. It was the woman who had spoken. "We did not create that event within your mind because we ourselves needed convincing of what matters most to you. We lied to you before. We sent you into that world, a world created out of your own memories, because you yourself needed to learn how you truly feel about your servant. He has been and will be your best friend until the day you both die."

Arthur thought about that for a moment. "So none of that was real?" he asked, unsure of what answer he was hoping for.

The woman nodded. "It was a situation we created to show you something that you will one day need to remember in the only thing that was real was you and the choices you made. You are, Arthur, a true friend."

Arthur began to smile but then he realized something and it hit him like a ton of bricks. He had been in that dream or whatever it was for hours. "It doesn't matter now," he spat out bitterly, "Merlin is already dead. What, did you think it would be fun to show me how much I actually care about that idiot only for me to wake up and realize he's gone?" Against his will tears began forming in his eyes. Merlin was dead, there was just no way that he could live this long with a wound like that. These twisted creatures had just been playing a game with him. Well, he'd make sure they would pay for that, whatever it took. These ghostly beings had just stolen his last moments with Merlin from him.

"Merlin is not yet dead," the man said, the anger that he had had when talking to him earlier gone.

Arthur lifted up his head to look at him. "What?"

"Merlin still lives, Arthur, but not for long," the woman answered. "We will give you what you need to heal him." Suddenly Arthur heard something that sounded like a twig cracking overhead and he jerked back as two silver leaves floated down in front of him.

"Take the leaves," the man said, "you must eat one yourself and then place the other one over Merlin's wound."

Arthur gazed at the fragile leaves in his hand. They were Merlin's only hope. He gazed up at the rippling people, tears of joy and hope in his eyes this time. "Thank you. Thank you so much."

"Don't thank us, Arthur," the woman said kindly. "The leaves would not work unless you truly cared about your servant more than your own life. Our magic is a very old magic that is a faint mirror image of the power that Emrys possesses."

Arthur felt a flicker of curiosity at that, but he squashed it. Tales of Emrys didn't matter now. What was important was saving Merlin. "Thank you," he said again, smiling in genuine gratitude. He turned to leave but the man called out to him.

"Wait! Don't forget what you have learned, prince. This knowledge of the lengths you'd go to for your friend is a knowledge that may one day prove invaluable to the both of you. When it comes down to duty or friendship, what you've been taught or treason you will know what path to take."

Arthur gave the man one long look, trying to understand exactly what he was saying, and then nodded. He wouldn't forget. How could he? For the first time in his life he truly understood what he believed.

After giving one more silent thank you with his eyes, Arthur turned and ran. The prince had been running so much lately. Running from danger, running _towards _danger, even running towards hope. But now, just like he had in the dream, he was running, racing to save Merlin. In the dream he hadn't been sure he could save his friend, but now he knew that if he got there quick enough he definitely could. So Arthur ran, praying that time was on his side.

* * *

><p>Yep. I've been looking forward to basically this whole chapter for quite some time. I apologize for the swear word. I have no idea what the ages are of those who are reading this or what they're comfortable with as far as swearing goes, so I try to keep it very minimal. But in this case I felt like it was seriously justified. Also, any discrepancies or things that didn't make sense during the dream part you can just chock up to it all being fake. I didn't want to have every little thing make sense because I felt like, considering it was created and wasn't real, that not everything would be plot-hole-less.<p>

And I am officially giving you all fair warning. I am 90% sure that the next chapter shall be the last one. Of course, I can't know for sure, but it should be the last. But don't worry, it's not the end. I have another story in this series that I plan to write. A story which will contain the reveal. Trust me, I have had this whole series, four separate stories in all if everything works out, planned out for over a year. All this stuff I've been hinting at will pay off. Wow. I started the first story in this series a little over a year ago. At this rate the other two will take another year. And hey! This story is already longer than the last one, in less chapters, too. I'm over 90,000 words now. Anyway, enough babbling, bragging, and telling you facts that you probably don't care about. Please review.


	18. Fate

Last chapter. I can't believe it's here. Just for those who didn't realize, the previous chapter was entitled "True Friend", which is also the name of a chapter in the first story. In that chapter Merlin talked about how he didn't feel like he had a true friend to count on and to always be there for him. In the chapter before this I proved that Arthur is that friend. So giving it the same name was my way of having things come full circle. Well, enjoy this last chapter. I really wanted to get everything just right and I think that I did for the most part.

* * *

><p><em>Life is hard and full of pain<em>

_when misery falls from the sky like rain._

_Darkness approaches swift and sure._

_My faith in destiny is no longer pure._

_How can I continue on in such doubt?_

_When hate seems to be all this world is about?_

* * *

><p>All nature waited with baited breath. There was powerful magic here and if the owner of it died then the magic would be released in a violent burst and everything throughout this land and the next would die in the fire of its power. But if the only one capable of harnessing and controlling this unfathomable magic survived then peace would be restored. The havoc that the magical storm was reeking on all living things was slowly draining the life out of the trees, the grass, the leaves and other plants. Nature itself was begging for peace and natural order to be returned to them. And this boy, the boy that lay dying and had magic so powerful that he was not yet aware of it, was the only one who could make things right. And so nature waited and hoped that he would be saved. The only sound in the forest for miles was the pattering of rain.<p>

* * *

><p>"Is he still alive?" Arthur asked breathlessly as he reached Gwaine, Merlin and the stranger, who were all exactly as he had left them.<p>

Gwaine glanced up at him in confusion. "Arthur..you were barely gone a minute."

Arthur took a double take. He gazed up at the lightly drizzling sky. It was still just before dawn. _How?_ he wondered. Not only had the running there and back taken probably a total of twenty minutes, but he had been in that dream world those specters had created for hours. There was no way that all of that, all that he had learned and saw, could have happened in only a _minute_. And yet it seemed it had.

"Do you have what is needed to heal him?" the stranger asked, pulling Arthur out of his thoughts about impossible things.

Arthur jerked as if he had been slapped. Of course, right now was not the time to be pondering what had happened. Assuming that time was moving normally now then Merlin's last remaining moments really were quickly fading away. Dropping next to Merlin and grabbing the boy from the stranger's arms, Arthur stuffed one of the silver leaves into his mouth and then gently pulled aside the fabric of his clothes away from the sticky and bleeding wound. The leaf in his mouth instantly seemed to suck all the moister and Arthur found himself suddenly incapable of swallowing or chewing. Trying to keep himself from choking from the complete and utter dryness in his mouth, Arthur carefully placed the other leaf on what he thought was the wound. He couldn't be really sure that the magical leaf was in fact touching the area that needed to be healed at all, due to all the blood it was almost impossible to tell. All he could do was hope that it was the correct spot.

Without any warning Arthur's mouth suddenly got flooded with a cool and refreshing sensation as the leaf seemed to dissolve completely into nothing. But what was even more startling was when he saw the leaf on Merlin's wound turn into a silvery liquid and seep into the blood and disappear. Then a loud crack of thunder pealed, causing Arthur to jump in surprise and glance upwards. The heavy clouds that had been marring the sky for days now began rolling away unnaturally quickly. The light pouring of rain that had been coating everything suddenly stopped. Arthur's eyes were hit with a stabbing pain and he was forced to squint as warm rays of sun appeared as if they had been there all along.

Arthur stared up at the clear blue sky. It felt like it had been so long since he had seen that layered blue that he had almost forgotten what it looked like. The storm clouds had gone back to being just a thin stream that led to their source.

Arthur heard Gwaine gasp and followed his gaze. _The wound..._All traces of blood had vanished from Merlin's body and the wound had...it no longer existed. Merlin's pale skin was without blemish. The only hint that Merlin had ever been injured was his torn clothes.

Arthur felt as if he couldn't breathe. "Merlin?" he asked, his voice breaking.

For a moment it seemed as if Merlin was never going to move again, but then bright sunlight landed on his face. Merlin's face scrunched a bit and his eyes flitted open."Arthur?" His voice was faint but it was enough.

Relief flooded through Arthur and the prince could swear that nothing had ever felt as good. His knees gave out and he had to lean against a tree or he'd fall right over. Tears budded in his eyes and Arthur found himself smiling uncontrollably. Arthur exhaled heavily. He felt light-headed and he glanced up towards the sky in an attempt to blink away his tears.

_He's alive._ Joy coursed through Arthur and overwhelmed him._ Merlin's alive. I won't let anything ever happen to him again. He's my friend and he always will be._

* * *

><p>Kai watched from a distance. He had lived for so long and had seen so many things, but seeing the prince and Emrys together topped all the wondrous things he had beheld in the past. When he looked at them he saw more than most would ever see. He saw the hope and the strength and the resilience and love and the boundless friendship that they carried with them. But his happiness at seeing them together, finally both safe and on good terms, was marred by what he knew was to come. Kai would give anything to escape the duty, the task that he had to preform. It wasn't right and it wasn't fair. It would almost be better if he hadn't helped Arthur save Merlin at all.<p>

Because in the end this wasn't saving him. It was just keeping him alive to make him suffer further. The help that Kai had provided hadn't been help at all, but rather a despicable act of cruelty. If Kai hadn't known what was coming he would have given Arthur the push he needed anyway, but because he did know he found himself wishing that the prince _had_ been too late.

But even Kai, for all his knowledge, had rules he had to follow. The magic pumping through his veins was old and its only purpose left was to make way for a new era of magic. Kai had been dreading this day for such a long time and he knew he could not disobey the rules. This would be his last task before he followed the rest of his kind into shadow, but not before he watched everything play out. The next years for Merlin would be the worst. The end of an age was coming to a close and only Emrys and the Once and Future King doing what they did best would open the door to the new age. The golden age.

_He has no idea of the incredible power within him. The magic he possess has only ever been used once before. It is the original magic. The first magic._ Kai could not believe that it had come to this after all this time. The fate of the world in the hands of such a young and pure boy.

So Kai watched as Merlin and Arthur reunited, hoping that they were enjoying the moment while they could. Such pain was in their futures. They might never realize how precious these few moments truly were.

* * *

><p>Merlin wasn't sure whether to be wary, to laugh, or to just be insulted. Something was wrong with Arthur. The prince of Camelot, who had a temper rivaled only by his own father, who always seemed to be annoyed at his servant, and had a love of tossing goblets and making insults, was happy and cheerful and content and it was starting to make Merlin think he really had died and this was some twisted version of hell. Arthur was smiling and there was a light in his eyes that Merlin rarely ever saw. And to make things even more confusing, when Merlin had first sat up, still really out of it, Arthur had <em>hugged<em> him. He looked as if some great weight was no longer on his shoulders.

Maybe, much like this magical object that they were still searching for, the healing of his wound had required a price and perhaps that price had been Arthur's sanity or ability to feel pride?

Gwaine had explained to him that he had passed out and a stranger had come along to help them. But, apparently, the stranger had left sometime while he was healing because no one had even seen him leave. But even though Gwaine had told him everything Merlin still felt like he was missing out on something. No one, especially Arthur turned from regularly grumpy to chipper just like that.

Merlin leaned over and whispered to Gwaine, "What's going on with Arthur? He hasn't insulted me once since I got healed. There's definitely something wrong."

Gwaine gave a small chuckle. "Maybe he really is just glad that you're not dying for once on this trip."

Merlin considered it for a moment and then shook his head. "Even if that was true he'd never show it." Despite the fact that his tone was joking, Merlin really was questioning whether or not that statement was true.

Even with his trepidation concerning Arthur the warm glow of happiness and kindness felt good. Arthur looked utterly content and that was something Merlin had never seen before. He had always wanted this for his friend but had never really believed that Arthur would relax long enough to feel this way. Arthur had too much responsibility weighing him down. Arthur was always putting his people first, was always focusing on what was best for them. But it seemed that something had changed.

_"Merlin! You're alright!" _Arthur's overjoyed words still rang in Merlin's ears. Merlin knew by now that Arthur cared to some degree, but he had long since given up on the hope that he'd let it be seen. Maybe he was wrong and one day they would have the relationship that they were destined to have.

Merlin would do anything for Arthur, anything, and what if some day the prince felt the same way? In fact, now that he thought about it, he still had no idea how _exactly _Arthur had saved him. And if Arthur was in such a good maybe just asking would get his question answered. After all, they still had no way of knowing how long they would be walking while following the thin line of dark grey clouds overhead. They might have all day.

Merlin caught up to his master. "Arthur, can I ask you something?"

Arthur sent him a good-natured and curious glance. "Of course, Merlin. Not that I could really stop you, anyway. It seems you always do exactly what I tell you not to."

Merlin smiled a little at that. "I guess I don't like being ordered around. It's possible I have the wrong job." Arthur laughed. Naturally, that wasn't true. There was nothing Merlin would rather do than be the prince's servant. "Anyway, Arthur, I was wondering how I got healed. Don't get me wrong, I'm very glad to be alive and injury-free, but," Merlin gestured to the expansive forest around them, "we're in the middle of nowhere and yet somehow you managed to find magic to save me?"

Arthur thought for a moment as if seriously contemplating his answer. Arthur usually said the first thing that came to mind when he was talking to his servant. "Well, as Gwaine said, a strange man came along and pointed me in the direction of magic that he said could heal you. And I met these...people." Arthur sighed slightly. "Well, they weren't really people. I'm not entirely sure what they were. They looked like...ghosts."

"Ghosts?" Merlin asked. _That one's new._ He'd never come across ghost-like people before.

Arthur nodded. "That's what they looked like, but they seemed to come out of the trees." He dismissed it with a wave of his hand. "But their appearance doesn't matter. They gave me these silver leaves that would heal you."

"Just like that?" Merlin had no idea who these magical beings were and in his experience many of them had only evil intentions. He didn't want to assume the worst of not only creatures of magic just like him, but also of the people responsible for saving him, but when it came to Arthur he couldn't afford to believe without suspicions. "No price?"

Arthur hesitated and looked a bit uncomfortable. "Not exactly. They told me that the magic wouldn't work unless...unless I truly cared about you as a friend."

Merlin tripped over his feet and ran into a tree. Next thing he knew he was lying on his back with an exasperated Arthur looking down at him. "Are you alright?" His tone was vaguely annoyed, but at least he had asked.

Merlin nodded and took the prince's offered hand. "I've had worse."

Arthur's face turned grim at that, but he didn't say anything and they continued walking. Merlin cleared his throat loudly and pointedly. Arthur gave him a glance that said to say whatever it was he planned on saying.

"Does that mean I owe you my life twice now?" Merlin asked. He wasn't used to having anyone there to save him. Most of the time he was on his own.

Arthur gave him an incredulous look. "Merlin...you've saved my life just as many times on this trip, not to mention the fact that if you hadn't taken that knife for me I might have been the one to die. That makes three saves." He scoffed in disbelief. "Merlin...you don't owe me anything. You never have." Arthur glanced at the sky above whose blue reminded him of Merlin's eyes. "When we first met you pulled me out of the way of a knife." He chuckled in wonderment. "It seems we have come full circle." Arthur sighed. "I know I have never even begun to repay you for that first save let alone everything else you've done for me."

Merlin looked at him warily. "Who are you and what have you done with Arthur? Did those ghosts do something to your head?"

"No, Merlin," Arthur laughed and shook his head. "It's just that for the first time in my life I'm no longer oblivious to everything around me. I finally know what I believe." His face turned serious. "I can't promise you that when we return to Camelot that everything will change. My father is unbending in his beliefs. But I want you to know that to me the fact that you're a servant and I'm a prince doesn't matter." Arthur put a hand on his shoulder and smiled. "You are my best friend and no rules about social standing are ever going to change that. And one day, when I'm king, everyone will know that."

Emotion swelled up inside Merlin, but he tried to quell it in an effort to keep it from overwhelming him. "You mean it?" he asked in a small voice. Arthur may not be promising that the ban on magic would be lifted, but what he was saying was enough. Arthur had just called him his friend in complete seriousness. And Arthur caring openly was...was more important than any goal concerning magic. And if some of his father's rules no longer mattered to him then maybe...

"I've never meant anything more," Arthur answered sincerely. "I guess that means I'm stuck with you."

Merlin turned his face away to hide his emotions. It was all worth it. All the pain of this trip and indeed the last three years and all the near-death experiences and fear were worth it. Joy was overcoming everything. He didn't have magic un-banned and he still had to hide who he was, but right now he felt complete. Merlin felt a bit dizzy and his mouth began to hurt from restraining the huge smile that was threatening to break forth. Arthur was, for the first time ever, treating him like a person. More than that; he was treating him like a friend. The whole world felt bright and full.

Merlin finally spoke, unable to keep the grin off his face any longer. "I can't tell you how much that means to me."

"Oh, I think I do," Arthur replied. "Those creatures showed me something, something I had never admitted to myself. And finally realizing...it was one of the best feelings I've ever had. I can't believe that all this time I had a true friend like you right by my side and I didn't even realize it."

Merlin felt warmth spread through his heart. No one ever spoke to him this way. For some reason everyone felt the need to hide their emotions these days. And Merlin had never properly cared about his own life because no one had ever seemed to care enough to express it. Sure, he knew how much his mother and even Gaius loved him, but since leaving Ealdor things had been different. Now any compliments or hints of affection that got sent his way were disguised with insults or rants about how he should stop risking his life. But he could deal with that from everyone else, except Arthur. He'd give his life for the prat without a second thought, but he had no way of knowing for sure if he felt even a fraction of the brotherly friendship that he did.

But now he did. Arthur had completely disregarded his pride and had freely admitted that he cared about his bumbling servant.

Arthur smiled and leaned in towards him. "But you're still an idiot."

Merlin let out a laugh at that. It was still Arthur, but an Arthur that had stopped hiding. Suddenly his breath hitched. Arthur was so relaxed and happy and completely weightless. If he had let go of his greatest burdens and revealed his secret then...why couldn't _he?_ Merlin had been planning on telling him before Prince Eric had barged into their lives. If Arthur was ever going to understand and accept him it was now.

Merlin started breathing heavily and his hands felt shaky. He could tell Arthur. He would. Arthur was so happy now and Merlin wanted to feel that. And even more importantly, now more than ever Merlin wanted to stop hiding from his best friend. He wanted all the secrets to disappear.

"Arthur?" Merlin asked hesitantly. He had to get this right. If he messed up now, said the wrong thing or failed to express the most important parts of his magic, then everything that they had now, the happiness, would wash away and he would lose everything. He had say this just right. "I want to tell you something. Please don't interrupt me before I'm done."

* * *

><p>Gwaine had been so afraid that Merlin was going to die. Merlin truly did change people. Before encountering the miraculous manservant Gwaine had never cared enough to be devastated over someone's death. Sure, he would be sad if anyone had died, he wasn't heartless, but he wouldn't get broken up about it. And despite the fact that Merlin and Arthur clearly had a friendship closer than anything he could have with the boy, it still had scared him more than he had ever felt before to think that he was dying. Again.<p>

But to see him alive and well again had made him feel like he was flying. But what was almost better than Merlin opening his eyes was watching as he and the prince conversed, not the way that a master and a servant would, but rather how two friends would. The look of pure joy on Merlin's face at Arthur's words had been priceless.

Merlin was right about Arthur, there was some great goodness in him, though Gwaine had been utterly surprised when the prince had put aside his pride. All it took was one glance at Merlin to realize that _this_ was exactly what he had needed and wanted for years. It was true, Arthur was a better man than Gwaine had ever given him credit for.

Merlin looked happier than Gwaine could ever remember seeing him. Any and all feelings of hostility or just general dislike that he had ever felt towards Arthur vanished. He had no idea how hard it had been or what had caused the prince to drop all the pretenses he had been hanging onto, but Gwaine had never been more grateful to anyone.

Merlin was practically glowing and Gwaine had his assurance that when the two of them returned to Camelot Merlin would have a friend with him.

So Gwaine let himself fall behind in order to give Merlin and Arthur some time to enjoy their new found friendship and talk alone. Gwaine was so happy for Merlin. Someone so full of hope love deserved some for himself.

* * *

><p>It had felt easy. Easy to tell Merlin that he cared and that that fact would never change. All this time Arthur had thought that it would be hard to say what he truly felt, but it wasn't. In fact, nothing had ever felt more right. And the look of relief and joy on Merlin's face had been the greatest gift he could have been given.<p>

"Arthur? I want to tell you something. Please don't interrupt me before I'm done."

Arthur gave Merlin his full attention. He could tell by the serious and almost nervous tone in his voice that he was going to say something very important. Arthur felt a chill go down his spine. "I'm listening," Arthur encouraged.

A small look of gratitude flashed across Merlin's face. "This isn't easy for me. This goes against almost every instinct I have, but...I guess if you went against your instincts long enough to save me with magic, twice, then I can ignore mine."

Merlin was stopping and starting. Arthur recognized the signs of when Merlin was about to ramble. Whatever it was he had to say must be big. Arthur felt honored that Merlin would tell him something that was obviously very difficult to say. "It's okay, Merlin. Take your time. You can tell me anything you want."

Merlin nodded and seemed to calm down some. "Before I say anymore, I just want you to know, Arthur, that everything I've done...I've done for you. And I'd never hurt you."

Arthur felt confused. Merlin was acting like he was preparing to confess to some horrible crime. "What do you mean, Merlin? Of course you'd never hurt me. I know that." Merlin didn't seem reassured by his words this time. "No matter what you think you've done, you're my friend. I know that and you should, too. Nothing you can tell me would change that."

Merlin let out a shaky and relieved laugh. "It means more than you can know to hear you say that," Merlin said. He opened his mouth to say something, but then he doubled over clutching at his head.

"Merlin!" Arthur cried out and grabbed his shoulders. "What's wrong?"

The boy's eyes were screwed shut in pain. "I can feel it!" He was desperately trying to cover his ears and his legs seemed to be losing their ability to hold him up. Thankfully both Arthur and Gwaine, who had rushed forward upon seeing Merlin collapse, managed to keep the servant semi-upright. "It's here. I can hear it in my head." Merlin cried out in pain. "Arthur...it's so loud."

"What is? Merlin?" Arthur asked frantically. His head whipped around, trying to look for anything that might be causing his friend this pain. Couldn't Merlin ever get a break? It didn't matter to Arthur, though, he wasn't going to let whatever this was continue hurting his friend.

Suddenly Merlin let go of his head and almost went limp. Merlin opened his eyes and panted, trying to regain his breath. "It's okay. It's gone now," he said and it looked to be true. The lines of pain were gone from his face and he seemed to be recovering from whatever had attacked him.

"Are you alright?" both Arthur and Gwaine asked at the same time.

The smallest of smiles appeared on Merlin's face. "Yeah, I think."

"What did you mean 'it's here'?" Gwaine inquired. Arthur didn't care about that. He wasn't completely convinced that Merlin was totally fine. After everything that had been happening to the boy lately he didn't want to take any chances. Merlin should rest.

However, apparently Merlin didn't feel the same way. At Gwaine's reminder Merlin's head snapped up and looked at something behind Arthur. The prince glanced behind him and noticed a big, grassy hill. "It's over there," the boy said.

Merlin rushed forward, running up the steep hill. Arthur groaned and followed his servant calling, "Merlin! Wait!" But Arthur's words trailed off as he came to the top of the hill and saw what it had been hiding from his sight.

What looked like a large fountain sat in the middle of a huge clearing. Great amounts of grayish water was shooting out of the top of it and straight up into the sky, causing the ordinary blue to be discolored and creating dark clouds. And spreading out in four different directions from the base of the golden fountain were thin streams of sparkling water. It seemed as if the water was making the grass around it extra green and healthy. In truth, the surprising and almost terrifying sight was also quite beautiful.

Arthur's eyes drifted from the pillar of water flowing upwards and toward the sight of a strange figure standing in front of the fountain. Recognition flashed in Arthur's mind. _Wasn't that the man who..._Arthur's eyes rolled up into his head and everything turned black.

* * *

><p>Merlin's eyes widened. He had felt the powerful and intense magic invade his mind and bombard his own magic, but it hadn't prepared him for this. This was the strongest magic he had ever felt, hence the piercing pain that had lanced through his head. It had taken a lot of his concentration to build up a wall with his magic to protect himself. If he hadn't he would probably be passed out by now.<p>

This magic felt so confusing. Normally magic was tainted by the emotions and beliefs of the person it belonged to. But this magic felt like it had been pulled every which way at the whim of hundreds of different people's emotions and desires.

Merlin heard an odd sound and spun around only to see that both Arthur and Gwaine had collapsed. Scared, Merlin rushed forward and tried to find Arthur's pulse.

"The prince is unharmed," A deep voice said from somewhere behind Merlin, "as is the knight."

Merlin slowly turned his head to look at the owner of the voice. It was not at all what he had expected. It wasn't a man, but rather some sort of creature. From the waist up he looked like a man, but from the waist down he looked like a horse. Merlin had heard myths about centaurs, but out of all the monsters he had seen and fought he had never once believed in the magical half man half horse.

The man had fiery red hair and was wearing a leather vest, other than that his chest was bare. Though he looked to be in his thirties, Merlin got the distinct impression that he was much older than that. Of course, the faint scars that were visible mottling his arms and his torso didn't help.

"Gwaine isn't a knight," Merlin replied warily as he slowly got to his feet.

The man took a step forward and it seemed like the weirdest sight Merlin had ever seen. "He will be," he answered simply. "There's no need to worry. As soon as you decide to leave this place they will wake up without so much as a lump on their heads. But all this," he gestured to everything around him, "is meant for you and you alone. This is your time, your decision. You should be able to make it without anyone else interfering."

"Why should I trust you?" Merlin asked cautiously. Already he was sending out thin wisps of his magic as probes to determine the situation.

"My name is Kai and I have no reason to hurt you. I am the keeper of this place and I live for nothing beyond fulfilling my duties."

Well, Merlin had discovered that Kai was at least telling the truth about Arthur and Gwaine. They were just asleep. The warlock gave the centaur a better look that confirmed his initial suspicions. "I've seen you before, haven't I? You've been following us."

Kai nodded. "I've been watching you from a distance. I was also the one who pointed Arthur in the direction of the people who could save you."

"Why?" Merlin asked. He couldn't afford the benefit of the doubt in this case. Almost subconsciously Merlin began moving in front of Arthur's prone body in a protective stance.

Kai saw his movements and smiled slightly. "Because if anything did happen to you, like getting stabbed, I needed to make sure that you'd survive. I'm the keeper of all things concerning this fountain, including you." Merlin gave a small scoff. Kai's eyes suddenly turned pained. "And also to let you know every time that you glimpsed me that...that you were always destined to come here. That this, along with your future, was not ever anything you could escape."

Merlin felt anger rise in his chest. Everyone kept telling what his destiny was and he was tired of it. This was his life, his friendships, his goals and dreams and no one had the right to control it. "I believe that destiny is made by our choices, not the other way around." His tone was cold and unfriendly.

Kai seemed to ponder that for a moment. "Perhaps that's true. But see it how I do. You were always going to make the choices that led you here because that's who you are, your personality, your beliefs. You would never have let Arthur go alone. In becoming so dead-set in your convictions and choices you made only one path that you could ever follow. Destiny."

"Arthur needed me. Camelot needs me. I can't just go against my nature," Merlin defended. He didn't particularly like being told that every bad that had happened was because he had played right into the hands of destiny.

Kai gave a sad nod. "And it's that nature that's brought you here to make the decision that only you can make."

Merlin's eyes strayed to the golden fountain behind him. He could feel the pulsing magic shooting the formula for a deadly storm into the sky. The ill will behind this particular magic made him feel sick. Camelot was still in danger; that fountain had to be made dormant. "I have to pay the price." It wasn't a question. Merlin could feel that the magic was asking for something. He had known this was coming ever since Gaius had told him. It's not like it was a surprise. He was ready to do whatever he had to in order to deliver Camelot.

Kai looked sad. "Powerful magic like this always comes with a price. The greater the deed asked the greater the cost and I can assure you that the person that wished for Camelot to be destroyed had to give up something very, very precious."

Merlin glanced up at the distorted sky. This wasn't the first time he had made a deal, except that last time he had been betrayed and instead of his life it was his mother's and then Gaius' that had been taken. This time Merlin was going to make sure nothing like that happened. "Whatever the price I will gladly pay it, but it has to be me. The cost can't be someone else's life. Let the consequences touch me and me alone," Merlin demanded. He didn't know it, but his tone was colored with the powerful authority of Emrys. He wasn't asking or hoping; he was commanding. It would take Merlin a long time to realize exactly how effective that tone really was. In future days when he used his authority with such conviction people would almost always obey him out of both fear and respect.

Kai walked over to one of the thin streams and bent down to run his fingers through the water. Merlin literally heard it tinkle. "I've always called this place the Fountain of Wishes, but that doesn't really describe it. It has had so many names and throughout the ages it has been used so many times. People at one point even naively worshiped this device." He turned to look back at the fountain. "But it's just an object imbued with powerful magic. Its magic is old and it's said that it has been here since the very beginning. But that's not true. The First Magic is so much more powerful and pure and there hasn't been more than a echo of it since it first appeared. Until now." Kai gave him a steady look. "Your magic literally creates itself. Everyone else's magic is taken from the air around them, but you...your magic comes from within. A never-ending well of magic." Kai sighed. "But you are not ready yet. You have not yet learned how to unlock its full potential."

Merlin felt confused. What did this have to do with anything? And...what did he mean that his magic was the first magic? Merlin shook his head. "Why are you telling me all this?"

"Because I want you to know that I am so sorry. That this is the last thing I want to do and I would give anything to keep you from this," Kai answered with pain clear in his voice. "But you have to make this choice and the consequences of either will fall on you no matter what I do. If I could pay the price for you I would, but as the keeper I can't touch the magic that I guard." He truly looked like he hated the position he was in. "But here are your choices."

Merlin sucked in a breath, preparing himself. His magic felt thready and nervous and somehow the warlock got the impression that he wouldn't be getting any help from it. He was on his own just like always. He never really counted on his magic because too many times he had been unable to use it due to having to hide. His magic was helpful, but it wasn't him.

"You can choose to make the wish and pay the price," Kai said and it sounded like he had rehearsed this or had said it many times. "Camelot will be saved and you and your friends can be on your way. You, however, will be changed. What is going to be asked of you is terrible and will haunt you for years yet to come. After paying the price all peace of mind will abandon you and sleep will be fleeting. You will live in paralyzing fear and yet be forced to act as if nothing is wrong. All good things and happiness will fail you in light of what you know. It will torment and destroy you."

Merlin swallowed convulsively. He pushed down his fear. "And what is the other choice?"

Kai's shoulders seemed to deflate. "You can do nothing, but then Camelot will fall. You and Arthur and Gwaine can live out the remainder of your lives here in relative comfort and you will be spared terrible pain."

Merlin felt horrified. "At the cost of thousands of lives?!" The very idea made him nauseous. How could anyone even suggest that? Never in a million years would Merlin put his own well-being over the happiness and lives of so many innocents. "That's not a choice," Merlin said angrily, "that's a sick joke."

Kai's face turned dark. "Not for some. There are people out there who would choose their own happiness at the expense of others."

Merlin shook his head emphatically. "Not me, not ever." Even if he didn't care about a single person back home he still wouldn't be able to because it would kill Arthur and watching the prince suffer like that would kill him.

Kai gave a small smile. "Then you choose to save Camelot?" he asked.

Merlin glanced back at the prone bodies of his friends. He was not looking forward to the kind of pain that Kai was talking about, in fact, he was so tired of being miserable. He had just found some happiness. Arthur was his friend now in ways that he had never been before and Merlin finally felt ready to tell him the truth. And if he chose to save Camelot he might lose all the joy he had just gained. But none of that mattered. He truly _was_ a servant. His life didn't matter but to serve others. Not just Arthur, but everyone. His duty was to them because, when it came down to it, he was there to help and protect them with his life. Gaius, Gwen, Morgana, and everyone else back in Camelot. They were all his reasons for living.

His happiness didn't matter. Kai was right; there had never really been a choice. "Yes...I choose to pay the price."

A tear rolled down Kai's cheek. "Very well then."

There was a flash of lightening and a booming clap of thunder and Merlin found himself stumbling backwards. Suddenly he realized he was face to face with Kai and the centaur was reaching out his hand. "I'm sorry, Merlin...Emrys. This is going to hurt." His hand touched Merlin's head and pain exploded in his mind. Image upon image flashed though Merlin's mind as he heard Kai's voice echoing and saying, _"This is what's to come. This is your future and it will come to pass."_

Merlin's head burned as he saw things that filled him with dread. _A blood-red sky. The water of Freya's lake boiling. Kilgharrah roaring in pain at the heavens. A cave made out of dark, black crystals. Vicious creatures with red eyes and poison dripping from their claws. _Merlin heard screams of people he knew and people he didn't. He felt sadness, despair, and emptiness. He heard an inhuman roar that couldn't have been made by neither creature nor man. He saw himself hanging, helpless, and screaming in agony. He saw Arthur sitting alone on a balcony and looking as if he had lost something very dear to him. Merlin saw hordes of men and creatures with one goal in mind. He saw a knight of Camelot, someone he cared about, get run clean through with a sword and fall lifelessly. Lightening flashed, the Great Dragon roared, and death descended.

The images grew faster and more painful and distantly he realized he was screaming. Abruptly Kai pulled his hand away and the flashes stopped. Merlin stumbled and fell to the ground, cradling his head. It took him a moment to comprehend that he was gasping. Merlin's vision cleared and his eyes found Kai. "What...what was that?" he asked, pain, shock, fear and an urge to pass out coloring his tone and making it higher than usual.

"That was your future, a future that you cannot avoid," Kai answered as he held out a hand and pulled Merlin to his feet.

Merlin shook his head, trying to clear the confusion cluttering his thoughts. "No. Everything was...was so dark and full of pain. That can't be the future."

"There's more," the centaur said with terrible regret in his voice, "but this part I can't show you. I have to tell it to you. And it's a lot worse than those pictures." He looked as if the words he was saying were causing him indescribable pain.

Merlin clutched at his throbbing head. "What could possibly be worse than the hopeless future I just saw?" he asked.

"One thing," Kai replied simply and sadly. "Merlin...one day Arthur is going to discover your secret and your friendship will grow stronger than ever...and because of that Arthur will die...saving you."

Merlin felt everything stop. It was as if the world had paused, had stopped moving. "No..." Merlin breathed. "H-he can't."

Kai nodded grimly. "He will. Nothing you can do will stop it."

"NO!" Merlin shouted and backed away from the keeper. "You're wrong. Arthur won't die. I won't let him!"

Kai sighed. "You'll try. But no matter what you do, regardless of how greatly you protect him, even if you run away to the farthest corners of the earth, he will die and you won't be able to change that. He's going to die protecting you. Only if you had chosen to let Camelot fall would Arthur have a chance of escaping this fate." He looked over to his shoulder to where the pillar of water had disappeared and the sky above had turned blue and beautiful once more.

Merlin rushed forward and grabbed his vest. "Then take it back!" he yelled, desperate, tears quickly forming in his eyes. "Take it all back!"

"You'd really do that?" Kai asked, "You'd let thousands of people die just to save your friend?" Merlin didn't respond but the answer was more than clear in his eyes. For a moment awe flickered across the centaur's face. "A legendary friendship." Then his face turned serious and unhappy once more. "But that won't change anything."

Merlin's arms went limp and he let go of Kai. He felt dizzy and his hands were shaking. In his mind an ongoing mantra that said this was all just a bad dream played. "But..." Merlin's voice was weak and thready. "He can't die...not for me. Not because of my magic." Merlin laughed, but it sounded more like a sob. "He's supposed grow old and die happy after he had lived a full life. He isn't supposed to..." Suddenly anger rippled through Merlin. "I've been told all my life, first by my mother and then by Gaius and even by the Great Dragon himself, that I have a great purpose. That I'm supposed to _help_ people." Merlin's voice got louder until he was practically shouting. "That I have a destiny!" The ground shook beneath his feet but he didn't notice. "But what's the point? If Arthur dies, if I can't protect and save him, my best friend, then what is the point of this stupid, crummy _destiny_?! Everything that I've done, all the stories about Albion, what do they matter?"

Merlin's blazing eyes dimmed as he glanced back at his friend and he felt tears well up again. The anger vanished only to be replaced with despair. "When is this going to happen?" he asked, not sure if he wanted to know but needing to all the same.

Kai shook his head. "I don't know," he answered, "but even if I did I wouldn't be able to tell you. You already know too much about your future."

Merlin thought about all he had done for Arthur in the past. "I'll save him...I'll find a way. I have to." Merlin had to convince himself of this. He didn't think he could go on knowing that at any moment Arthur could die saving him and he would be unable to do anything about it.

"I am so sorry," Kai said and it seemed like he meant it. "I wish more than anything that I didn't have to be the one to do this to you. You will suffer. This knowledge will haunt you until the day you die. It will always be there, causing you pain...but for right now you're going to have to forget." Merlin was hardly even listening to him. The dread, the fear, the agony coursing through him was too much to take. "I'm going to make you forget what you have seen and what I have told you for now. I don't doubt that you would do something drastic that would only end in Arthur getting killed sooner. So I'm going to take away these memories until the right time, but just because they're hidden won't mean they're gone."

It took Merlin a moment to understand what Kai was saying, but it was too late. The centaur's hand touched his forehead and suddenly a burning cold entered his mind. Merlin felt like he was a footprint being washed away. He tried to latch onto something, but there was nothing worth grabbing onto.

Then force pulling at him disappeared. Merlin gasped and glanced around. He was on his hands and knees on the soft, grassy ground. His head ached and his mind felt...itchy. He couldn't see Kai anywhere. Last thing he remembered he had just told the magical creature that he was prepared to pay the price regardless of how awful it was. However, Merlin got the distinct feeling that that was no longer true.

He put his hands to his face and, to his surprise, it felt wet. A groan came from behind him and Merlin's head whipped around to see Arthur opening his eyes. Merlin rushed over to him. "Arthur, are you alright?"

For a second the prince's eyes seemed to have trouble focusing on him, but then Arthur became aware of everything. "Of course, Merlin. I'm fine." Arthur stumbled to his feet and swayed a little. Sighing and steadying his master with a hand, Merlin held out his other hand to help Gwaine up.

Arthur's eyes went slightly wide. "Merlin, what did I miss?"

Confused, Merlin followed his master's line of sight and realized that the prince had discovered the lack of magical anything coming from the fountain. "Oh," Merlin said, understanding and trying to think of a reasonable explanation. "I met someone, a man, and I told him what that thing was doing to everyone back home. As soon as he understood that it was going to kill people he decided to...turn it...off. I don't think he knew what it was doing."

Arthur took a second to ponder that. "Okay," he said, dismissing it as he seemed to find it acceptable. "But why were we knocked out and not you?" he asked and Merlin could swear he heard concern. "He didn't hurt you or anything, right?"

Instead of the warmth that Arthur's care should have caused Merlin to feel, the warlock had a pit of fear and sadness sink in his gut. Somehow, Arthur being his friend had turned into a bad and worrisome thing. "No, he didn't touch me," Merlin answered as he tried to shake off the feeling of dread. "Maybe he just liked me better."

Arthur scoffed. "Yeah, right." He glanced around. "Well, it seems like our quest is complete." The prince made some sort of odd gesture with his hands. He obviously hadn't been expecting it to be this easy. He'd probably been ready for a fight or confrontation.

"I guess," Merlin said hesitantly, also a little thrown off by, well, everything, "we should...go home."

"Yeah," Arthur said, smiling, "that sounds like a good idea. I've got to say that I miss my own bed."

Gwaine and Arthur turned around and started heading back the way they came. For some reason Merlin didn't share Arthur's enthusiasm. Sure, he missed Camelot and the people there, but somehow he just felt like...like it didn't mean anything anymore. If he went back to Camelot then he would just be faced with more dread.

Merlin glanced around at the expansive clearing. When he had first arrived everything had seemed so beautiful and powerful. Now this place felt empty and ugly. Something was missing, he could feel it, and he knew that it was something precious. A figure appeared within his vision and Merlin stared at the far off and distant shape of a centaur that was watching him as if to remind him of some fact.

"Merlin! Come on! Don't you want to see Gaius again sometime in your life?" Arthur yelled from behind him.

Merlin gave one last look at the clearing and then turned around and followed Arthur, feeling like he was leaving the place where a vital part of him had died.

* * *

><p>Merlin and Arthur made their way back home. The whole trip Merlin hardly said a word to anyone. He felt hollow, as if all his hope and dreams had been stolen from him, leaving him empty. Whenever Arthur asked him if he was okay or tried to engage him in a joking conversation Merlin would just shrug off his attempts and say that he was tired and homesick.<p>

Upon reaching the edge of the Border they parted ways with Gwaine, but not before the rogue had promised to drop by sometime, despite the fact that they all knew he couldn't due to his banishment. Almost as soon as they stepped through the magical barrier once more and into the world more familiar to them they were bombarded with knights, who had apparently been ordered to keep trying to get through the Border nonstop by Uther. Of course, their attempts had been in vain.

No one had died. Though the damage from the storm to Camelot had been extensive no one had died. Many had been injured or had gotten sick from the never-ending wet and cold and lack of sun, but Merlin had stopped the storm in time. But Camelot rebuilt itself as it had gotten good at doing.

A great deal of the crops had nearly drowned from the high amounts of water, but after Merlin had snuck out at night and performed a restoring spell he hadn't previously been aware he was capable of doing, the soggy plants had returned to full health.

Months passed. Arthur made good on his promise to treat Merlin better. Of course, in the presence of his father or those who held his beliefs Arthur tried to maintain an air of indifference towards his servant, but the rest of the time he was quite a good friend. There was no more yelling and he rarely ever got mad at him for being late. The insults were far less frequent and when they did make an appearance they were always side by side with a great deal of humor. Arthur would ask Merlin's opinions on things and often openly admitted that he respected them. The reformed prince even began sharing his food, especially when he noticed his friend looking particularly haggard and hungry one day.

But for all of Arthur's kindness Merlin's spirits had not changed. Day after day the disguised warlock would keep his head down, do his duties respectively, and not respond at all to his master's clear attempts at having a closer friendship. Merlin felt afraid all the time for reasons that he didn't understand. More than anything he wanted to tell Arthur his secret, just as he had been planning, and enjoy the change in the prince's attitude, but every time he got close a feeling of intense fear, pain, and despair would come over him. There always seemed to be a voice in his head telling him not to become closer to Arthur and to, above all, never tell him his secret.

Night after night Merlin had nightmares. They were all vivid and terrifying, but despite that they always vanished as soon as his eyes cracked open in the morning. That itching feeling in his mind like he was missing something continued and worsened and slowly all of Merlin's usual hope and life drained from him. Every moment was filled with fear and...self-hate.

Merlin wasn't the only one to feel the effects of what he had learned and then promptly forgotten. All of his friends saw how differently he acted and grew ever more worried about him. Perhaps Arthur suffered the most. The prince tried day in and day out to cheer Merlin up, and yet nothing worked. Arthur felt confused. Hadn't Merlin wanted to be treated better? Didn't the boy want his friendship? And the fact that Merlin was, essentially, rejecting him hurt. Arthur had finally realized the kind of friend he had just when that friend seemed to vanish. Arthur wanted to have the closeness that he knew was possible, but Merlin kept acting depressed and submissive around him, much like the rest of the servants, which Merlin definitely was not.

Arthur had no idea what to do or what was wrong with his friend. Eventually, one day, Arthur got particularly frustrated with Merlin's attitude that in a burst of anger he threw a goblet at him. That was the first time Arthur had chucked anything at his servant since before the quest. The prince had instantly regretted his loss of temper and had been about to apologize when he saw the blank face that Merlin had been wearing for such a long time twist ever-so-slightly into a smile. The first smile that had been seen on the manservant's face in over a month.

Later Arthur had tested out his theory again by insulting Merlin the way he used to. It seemed to relax Merlin, oddly enough, and so the prince had done it again at the end of the day. It wasn't long before the two of them had fallen back into their old habits. Goblets were flying again and insults were being hurled and beatings on the training field were being given. At first Arthur had hated going back to the way he used to do things, but after a while the happiness that came from getting to glimpse the old Merlin overshadowed that. Three months after the quest had ended everything had gone back to the way it once was, the only exception being that Merlin still hadn't regained some of his old spark and his nights were stilled disturbed.

The reason Merlin felt more comfortable with the old Arthur was because the old Arthur wasn't someone he could tell his secret to. It wasn't someone who seemed in danger of becoming best friends with a servant and it _was_ someone that Merlin was familiar with. With Arthur treating him the way he always did that ever-present dread in his gut lessened slightly and Merlin could pretend that everything was alright.

But it wasn't.

* * *

><p><em>I would give up all for him, but it seems I cannot win.<em>

_In the end I will fail, no matter what I do._

_All hope is lost as I rue_

_the day that I came into this life_

_and pulled him away from the knife._

_For all my power I am so weak,_

_I must never have the acceptance I seek._

_For If I do he will surely die,_

_and if he dies so shall I._

* * *

><p><em>End of Chapter 3: The Calm Before The Storm<em>

_To be continued..._

* * *

><p>For anyone who is wondering, I did not cite the two sections of poems because I didn't take them from anywhere. Copyright me. I've been writing poems before I knew how to write properly. Now, whether or not that means they're good...<p>

That's it. That's the end of Gathering Clouds. Of course, I have another story in the works. Naturally, I'm going to take some time off before I jump right back into another fic, but I can promise you that it will happen, preferably before the next series of this show airs. I am giving you fair warning now that the next story, which will be the third in a series of four, is going to get dark. I have no idea of your tolerance levels concerning overall darkness, but I don't plan on there being anything too much more explicit than I've already had. Mostly it's going to be the atmosphere. There is going to be a general feeling of despair and sadness covering the whole thing. I can also tell you, like I have said before, that the next one will have the reveal that I have been keeping from you all for so long.

I apologize to all the huge Gwaine-lovers out there who wanted to see more of him, but I originally had planned to only have Merlin and Arthur on this quest. I eventually realized that I needed one other person, but very few scenes were designed with him specifically in mind back when I was still in my planning stage. And, unfortunately, I don't plan on having him as anything other than a minor character like Gaius anytime in the future of this saga. Yes, I am going to call it that.

So now I want to thank you all. Everyone who has reviewed, read, favorited, alerted, and just generally liked this story; I give you all my thanks. This story has to be one of the greatest experiences of my life and it truly has been amazing to write. Thank you all for your support and for not putting me down. You guys are awesome. And thank you God for making this possible and giving me the inspiration, motivation, and any and all of the talent I possess. I owe it all to you, Lord.

Once again I hope you all enjoyed it and will keep an eye out for the next story. Please review. Goodbye and good health to you.

_"For I have overcome the world."_


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